


Fate is a Stripper

by baNINA_bread



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Multi, Stripper!AU, also if you think about it, ish, kind of drag!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baNINA_bread/pseuds/baNINA_bread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vinco stood up slowly, still a little lost at what just happened. That was him, the guy in his dreams, and he was real. He’d touched him, and when he brushed against his hand electricity flew up his hand and disappeared down his spine. Getting to know him was going to be a challenge (hell, he didn’t even get a name), and as the stranger left in irritation, Vinco decided that that wouldn't be the last time they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haven't I Seen You Before?

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the mistakes and inaccuracies. UvU
> 
> There hasn't been a lot of stripper!AU fics for the Ed Banger fandom, so I hope this is a good first try at one.
> 
> There are original characters in this, I hope you don't mind.

 

Vinco had been seeing the face of a certain man in his dreams recently. Every night he’d wake up from visions of a man with pale skin and eyes the color of the sky. It was slightly disturbing at first, but not because he was a guy—hell, he swung _all_ ways, to be subtle—but because night after night the same man would never fail to show up somewhere in his dreams: reading a book on a park bench, walking by a beach, or simply walking by him. He tried wrapping his head around it, thinking maybe this guy was a ghost and he was trying to communicate with him, or maybe he was someone he knew from his childhood. Slowly he grew accustomed to the image of the stranger in his dreams—maybe he’d meet him, sometime, somewhere. It wasn’t really a big deal anymore, but he was still really curious about the literal man of his dreams.

It was a cold Friday when the subject of his dreams slipped into a conversation with his friends, Pedro and Bertrand. The three were in a booth at a café, sipping coffee when Vinco let the topic slip out of his mouth. “I swear, I’ve never dreamed of anyone so frequently. It’s a bit weird, but I’m still really curious,” he said, fingering the rim of his coffee cup. “Does this mean anything?”

Pedro scratched at his scruff. “Are you _sure_ you’ve never met him before?”

“Yeah, man, I mean, most of the people you dream about are strangers you’ve seen in real life. You just don’t remember them,” Bertrand said as he doodled on the table napkins.

Vinco played with the thought in his head. After a while of silent thinking, he frowned. “Nah, I don’t think so,” he said, reaching for the small container of milk.

“What’d you say he looked like again?” Pedro asked.

“Dark hair, pale skin, honest-to-goodness blue eyes,” Vinco supplied, stirring milk into his coffee. He’d lost all intent to finish it, but he just messed around with it because that’s how he was when he was mulling something over. Always fidgety. “And the way he’d look at me sometimes reminds me of a deer caught in headlights. Like the way you’d look at a person you didn’t expect would come, but did.” If there was one thing he could never forget about this stranger it was the way he’d stare at Vinco. Off-putting, but endearing, like a quirk that grew on him.

Bertrand put his pen down and raised his head. “Huh, that’s strange.” He turned to Pedro. “Doesn’t Seb look like that?”

That caught Vinco’s attention. “‘Seb’ who?”

“Seb’s a dancer at the Club,” Pedro answered, sipping his coffee. After realizing what he’d just said, his eyes lit up. “A dancer at the Club! Vinco, you should really come to the Club again! Seb might be the man of your dreams!”

The other man only rolled his eyes at his friend’s suggestion. Pedro’s strip club, the Ed Banger Gentleman’s Club, was a place he’d only gone to once—only _once_ —and a place he had no intention of visiting again. He loved his friend, but after one of the… performers demanded a pretty large tip, he swore never to go there again. It wasn’t a seedy place, it was pretty exclusive, actually, but it just was not Vinco’s scene. “Pedro for the last time, I am not visiting your club again. The last time I went there, I blew enough money to pay for a month’s rent. If this is another scheme of yours—”

“Come on, that’s because Xavier didn’t know you were with me!” Pedro defended. “And I promise, this time, everything will be on me. Plus, what if Seb really _is_ the man of your dreams? Come _on_ , Vinco, just give it another shot!” he pressed.

“Pedro strip clubs are great, but I’m serious,” Vinco countered, to his friend’s disappointment. “And as much as I support the fact that you run a club, I am not going to visit again. Sorry, man.”

“Bertrand!” Pedro wailed, motioning to Vinco.

Bertrand sighed. “Come on, man. If you don’t come to the club I’m never hearing the end of it from him,” he said. “Don’t even do this for Pedro. I’m the better friend. Do this for me.”

“And for the man of your dreams!” Pedro interjected.

Vinco narrowed his eyes at the two. “Sometimes I wonder why I even put up with you guys…” he said before letting out a sigh of resignation. “Do you _promise_ that this time, I won’t have to pay for anything?” When Pedro answered him with an excited nod, he spoke again. “Pedro, I fucking mean it. I’m not loaded like you guys. You swear?”

“Strip club manager’s honor,” Pedro said, putting his hand over his heart. His hands flew to the back of his neck, fingers fiddling with the lock of his necklace. Once the lock came off, he handed the necklace to Vinco. “Here you go. A promise is a promise,” Pedro said with a reassuring smile.

Confused, Vinco held his hand out to receive the necklace. The thin gold links pooled in his palm like liquid, the little charm pendants clinking against each other as they fell. “I don’t understand,” he said, holding the necklace by a triangular pendant.

“Pedro has this bi-weekly thing called being ‘the Boss’s Pet’,” Bertrand explained. “There are people who bid for a full week of free services at the Club. Highest bidder gets that,” he concluded, pointing at the necklace with his pen.

“The keys to the kingdom,” Pedro proudly said.

Vinco surveyed the pendant he held. Looking closer, he noticed the words ‘ED BANGER’ inscribed on one side; on the other side was a face like a cat’s wearing shades, sticking its tongue out.

“Designed that myself,” Bertrand said now sounding as proud as Pedro.

“Impressive,” Vinco said, putting the necklace on. “So, once I wear this and walk into your club, everything’s free? Literally _everything_?”

Pedro finished his coffee. “No questions asked,” he answered. “Since today’s a Friday, your week can start tomorrow night, if you’re down. Once you decide you’re done with it, and you think Seb’s not the guy, you can give me back the necklace. Simple as that.”

Vinco knew that he might end up regretting this someday, but he decided that, hey, this Seb person could be the one in his dreams, so fuck regret as of the moment. “I’m going to regret this one day, right?” he wondered aloud.

Bertrand winced. “Most probably,” he said. After earning a punch to his shoulder from Pedro, he laughed and spoke again. “But it might be worth it, who knows. Maybe Seb really _is_ the guy in your dreams.”

Vinco sighed for what seemed like the nth time in the conversation. “Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow night. But what do I wear, how should I look?” he asked. He remembered what he wore the last time he went there—dark jeans and a white shirt. In hindsight, he knew that was never going to cut it if he was visiting the Club again.

“Look like you actually spent on that,” Pedro said, referring to the necklace.

“And how much is usually spent on this thing?”

“Highest bid so far’s been 15 grand,” Bertrand said, without blinking and sounding rather unimpressed. He gathered his be-doodled napkins and stuffed them in his bag.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” Vinco muttered, rubbing his face.

 

♥♥♥

 

Sebastian woke up tired. He couldn’t understand it. He’d left the club pretty early (3:35 counted as early) and woke up in the late afternoon. He groaned and reached for his phone on the side table. 3:54. Fuck. He’d slept for twelve hours. He flipped himself over so that he’d be on his back. What did he have to do before he got ready for the club? He rubbed his face and let his hand settle on his forehead. Oh, right, he had to pick up some clothes from the dry cleaners. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, waiting for his body to knock itself out of its ‘still-groggy-from-sleep’ mode.

“Sebos, I heard groaning so I’m suspecting you’re awake,” his roommate, Uffie, called from outside his room. “Are you naked?”

“Yessssss…” he replied, still a bit woozy from the thirteen-hour sleep. God bless Uffie. She was always so considerate, asking whether he was indecent or not before she came into his room to help him get ready, and most of the time leaving Ibuprofen for his hangovers on his desk. She was an arts student at a nearby college, and to Sebastian, an absolute saint.

“Good, I’m making a porno and I need a star actor,” Uffie joked, entering the room. She balanced a wooden tray with a bowl of what smelled like chicken soup on one arm while she shut the door with the other. “I made too much soup, and I know you haven’t eaten since last night, so here you go,” she smiled, setting the tray in front of Sebastian. She giggled at how Sebastian sat up really fast at the mention of food. “I suggest you eat quickly, it’s already 4.”

“Marry me, Uffie,” Sebastian said, tugging at the sheets carefully to bring the tray nearer. It’s been so long since he had homemade chicken soup, and without his roommate’s urging he would most probably forget eating altogether. He took the bowl and just held it for a few seconds, relishing the warmth it brought to his fingers. He took the spoon and took a sip, moaning at the smooth, salty taste of the soup. “God, Uffie, what would I do without you?” he said in between spoonfuls.

Uffie sat cross-legged on his bed. “Probably die of hunger,” she said. “So, have you picked your clothes up yet? I can’t wait to see what you’re wearing tonight.”

Sebastian shook his head. “I’m going as soon as I finish this. I’m also picking up some laundry.”

“What’s it look like again?”

“Black, of course,” he said with a smirk. “Lacy, very boudoir-worthy.”

“Remind me again why you didn’t wear it the last time?” Uffie asked, frowning at a lock of her own hair. She’d just had her hair trimmed and now she had split ends _again_.

The man wrinkled his nose at the memory. He’d bought the customized outfit a week ago and planned to wear it in a solo performance but another dancer was smart enough to spill a Bloody Mary on it. He ended up having to dance in a borrowed costume that was a size smaller and very uncomfortable— he nearly slipped on the poles, if it weren’t for his reflexes. “Xavier happened,” he said, hissing the word as if it was poison to his tongue. “Little skank spilled a fucking Bloody Mary on the thing.”

“Jesus, what’s his damage?” Uffie asked incredulously. Out of all the guys who worked at the Club, Xavier was the only one who seemed to enjoy messing with Sebos. “If he fucks with you tonight, tell me. I’m going to kick his tiny ass.” She stood up to arrange Seb’s things on his desk.

Sebastian laughed and put his bowl back on the tray. “Have I told you how much I love you, Uff?” he said, going to the girl and hugging her from behind, making her cry out in surprise. “I love you so much, you’re the greatest,” he continued, swaying from side to side, making the girl sway with him.

“Sebos, my darling roomie, stop!” Uffie laughed. “You’re nude as a baby and I think that’s your boner pressing at my back!”

“I have a boner, all right,” Sebastian said, nuzzling the girl. “A heart boner. An affection erection. You sure you don’t want to come with me to the Club tonight? I can get you free drinks,” he said, still holding on to her.

“As much as I want to, I can’t,” Uffie said, detaching herself from him. “I have an art project that’s due in two days, and I haven’t started yet. Next time, sweetie, I promise,” she said patting him on the cheek. “Pouting about it won’t help.”

Sebastian batted his eyelids. “Please?” he asked giving her his best puppy face.

Uffie bit her lip. “ _Fine!_ Fine. But you’re helping me with my art project, okay?” she said, letting go of his face.

“Promise,” Sebastian replied, smiling. Uffie going to the Club with him probably wasn’t  going to make Xavier stop being a little bitch, but it sure as hell would make the evening feel shorter.

“Good,” Uffie said. “Now take a shower. Your sexy outfit awaits you,” she continued, motioning in the direction of the bathroom.

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco felt incredibly out of place walking on the sidewalk holding a suit bag. He’d thought of riding a cab, but that would be pretty silly— the laundry shop was literally a few steps away, and spending extra cash would be stupid. But now he felt like a prick lugging the thing around. Sigh. The sacrifices one must make in order to look expensive. He thought about his suit, the one tucked away safely in this rather conspicuous bag. It was one of the few things in his closet that was really nicely tailored. Actually it was one of the few things in his closet that was really nice. Period. But it had been a long time since he took it out to wear, and he wanted it looking clean on the night of his ‘Gentleman’s Experience’. God. He was starting to regret it.

He turned the corner and hastened his walk into a little jog, because he never frequented laundry shops that much, he had no idea what time they closed. When he saw the little plastic ‘WE’RE OPEN’ sign he sighed and walked in. What greeted him was the clean, slightly-addictive smell of detergent and fabric conditioners or whatever those things were used to make clothes smell great. Clothes upon clothes hung on hangers set on metal bars attached to the low ceiling. There were piles of blankets and sweet-smelling bed sheets wrapped in flimsy plastic in the corner of the shop. Vinco started feeling light-headed because of the strong, fresh scent.

Weirdly enough, there was no one at the counter. He slung his suit over his shoulder and knocked on the counter. “Hello?” he called. Nothing. He looked over the counter to see if there was anyone underneath, fussing over boxes or something. Still nothing. “Hello?” he called, a little louder this time, in hopes that someone heard.

“Marie, get the counter!” a muffled voice from a side door called, startling Vinco. “ _Marie!_ ” the voice called again, more irritably. When there was still no one at the counter, the supposed owner of the voice cursed.

Vinco could hear shuffling behind the door before it opened, revealing an older woman in a polka-dotted dress, whose scowl dropped as soon as she saw the man at the counter. “Sorry for that, my assistant is still young, she can be unreliable sometimes,” the woman cooed. “ _MARIE, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?_ ” she yelled again, shrill voice making Vinco wince.

“It’s fine, I just needed to ask if you did rush orders,” Vinco said, suddenly feeling sorry for the young assistant. Jesus, she must have a lot of patience to spare. “I need this suit by tomorrow night,” he said, patting the bag that was on the counter.

 

♥♥♥

 

Before picking his clothes up from the laundry shop, Sebastian decided to have a cup of coffee. He didn’t drink it often, but he felt like he needed an extra shot of energy to fully wake him up. It was Friday, anyway—that meant more guests at the club. More guests required more energy, and as of the moment Sebastian felt like he did not have enough.

A few shops before the laundry shop was a little café he’d never been to. When he pushed the glass door metal chimes tinkled overhead, catching the attention of a girl behind the counter. There were no people around, which was strange because the café looked really cozy, and the place smelled of baked goods. Why weren’t there any customers?

“Hi there!” she chirped, with an eager smile, as Sebastian walked to the counter and the display of pastries. “What can I do for you?”

“Just an espresso with two shots please,” Sebastian said, smiling back. “And one croissant.”

“Oh. Oh, uh, okay,” said the girl, a frenzied look flitting through her face for a moment. “One… espresso,” she murmured, more like a lecture to herself than a record of the order. “One espresso, coming up!”

Sebastian felt a bit ambivalent about the girl handling his coffee. He slowly understood why there were no people. He took a seat near the counter so he could look at how his order was being made from time to time. He saw the girl fussing about around a high-tech-looking coffee machine, walking to and fro to get milk and other things. He decided to turn his eyes to his table. There was a little doily in front of him, and at the center of the doily was a little folded paper star. Now that he noticed it, each table had one, and a few hung by the curtains. _Cute_ , he thought.

A droning rumble caught Sebastian’s attention—apparently, for some reason, the coffee machine was making the noise. A few moments later, the girl who had greeted him was carrying a cup and a saucer with his croissant on it. She set it down in front of him with a worried look.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I made you black coffee instead,” she said, fiddling with her hands. “The machine just broke down, I am so sorry, you don’t have to pay for _anything_ ,” she rambled.

Sebastian took one long look at her, noticing the concern in her brown eyes and how she looked a bit too young to even be working at all. “No, it’s fine… Maria, is it?” he assured, squinting at her little name tag. “It’s okay. As long as this wakes me up.”

 

♥♥♥

 

“I am so sorry, Ella, I was wrapping up a pick-up for later,” a girl from a back room apologized, a pile of clothes in her arms.

 _This must be Marie_ , Vinco thought, noting her frazzled expression.

“Making customers wait isn’t how we do things around here, Marie. Leave those things here and take this suit to the back,” the woman said, tossing Vinco’s suit at her. “It’s a rush order. _Don’t mess it up_ ,” she scolded, forgetting that the owner of the suit was still in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Marie said as she disappeared through the back room again.

“How much will it be?” Vinco asked, pulling his wallet out.

“75 for a rush,” the woman, Ella, said, with a tone that was sticky-sweet. It freaked Vinco out a bit. She seemed to be flirting with him. Times like this made Vinco resent the fact that he had grey hair at a young age. Did he really look _that_ old?

As he counted the bills he was going to hand over, the shop door opened. “I’m here for a rush order?” a man’s voice asked. “A girl with purple hair took the order from me, I think her name was Marie.”

“Oh, yes,” Ella said. “Just a moment, sweetheart,” she said to Vinco before raising her voice once more. “MARIE! RUSH ORDER PICK-UP!”

“Coming!” Moments later, Marie emerged again with a plastic-covered pile of clothes. “You own these, right?” she asked, writing on a piece of paper on the counter.

“Yeah. Thanks a lot,” Sebastian said. He looked at his watch. 5:50. He had to finish up here and head to the apartment to get ready. As he took the pile from the girl and tucked it under his arm, she flashed him a knowing smile which he decided to ignore. He went to the counter to sign the receipt.

Vinco moved to the side to give the other customer room on the counter. From the corner of his eye he saw that this guy had really, _really_ , fair skin, and that his cheeks were quite flushed. _Must’ve walked here, too_ , he thought.

Sebastian noticed the guy looking at him so he gave him a glance. The other man’s hair was grey, which interested him, because he still looked young. He had a bit of scruff, which he found attractive on men, and around his neck was a very familiar necklace.

Holy shit, it was _The Necklace_.

“Uh, hi?” Vinco offered, seeing the way the other man was staring. It slowly dawned on him that he’d seen this guy before. The fair skin. Dark hair. Honest-to-goodness blue eyes. Jesus Christ on a bike, it was _him_.

Sebastian’s eyes widened at the sight of The Necklace. This man was a bidder. And he’d won.

 _Holy fucking shit, it really is him!_ , Vinco thought as he watched the other’s eyes widen. It was the Look, the particular look that the man in his dreams shot him, the deer-caught-in-headlights look. This man really was him.

Sebastian shook his head, bringing himself back to the situation. This was bad. He had to get out of here as soon as possible. Having a bidder see you outside the Club was strictly forbidden, and if Pedro found out that the cover (and the mystique) of one of his performers got blown, that performer would get sacked. He grabbed the receipt and made to leave when Marie called out to him again.

“Excuse me sir, I think this one’s also yours!” she said, holding up a paper bag. “It’s got—”

“ _I know what’s in there, thanks_ ,” Sebastian said, cutting her off. He started making his way toward her, trying his best to avoid the ‘bidder’.

“Hey, wait, what’s your name—” Vinco started to ask, before the man bumped—no, straight-up _slammed_ — into him in his hurry. The two found themselves on the floor after Sebastian tried pushing past him, with the plastic-wrapped pile between them. Vinco reached for the pile to hand it to the other man, who looked pretty pissed. “I’m sorry, let me.”

Sebastian also reached for his things as the other guy apologized. “It’s fine, can you just… _not_ ,” he gritted out, hoping and praying that the bidder would just fucking back off. The situation was already so fucked as it was.

Vinco’s fingers brushed against Sebastian’s when they both held the pile. He looked up at the stranger and saw that, up close, he was really handsome, with an aquiline nose and a pretty little mouth. His heart skipped a beat when the other looked at him—there was ice in the other man's eyes, a sort of harsh coldness that seemed dangerous (especially in this situation where he looked like he wanted to punch Vinco). But he made Vinco want to know him more, and made him want to dare thawing the cold out of him. After all, he appeared a lot in Vinco’s dreams—he must mean something to him, he just had to figure out how.

Sebastian did not like this. At all. Up close, the bidder was a rugged type of handsome, and he was polite. Sort of. He grabbed his things and forced himself to scowl at him as he stood up and left in a huff.

Vinco stood up slowly, still a little lost at what just happened. That was him, the guy in his dreams, and he was _real_. He’d touched him, and when he brushed against his hand electricity flew up his hand and disappeared down his spine. Getting to know him was going to be a challenge (hell, he didn’t even get a name), and as the stranger left in irritation, Vinco decided that that wouldn't be the last time they met.


	2. One Hot Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm sorry for any inaccuracies/typos/mistakes UvU
> 
> I don't work at a club so I have no idea what goes on backstage. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter!

It was already 8 in the evening when Sebastian and Uffie reached the club, an hour before they opened doors for their customers. Uffie had taken extra time picking out what to wear before deciding on a short, sequined dress for the evening. “ _If the moment when I have to kick Xavier’s tiny ass comes tonight, I want to look good_ ,” she’d said, slicking on pink lipstick.

Sebastian looked to the T-shaped stage and noticed that on each of the three corners there was a pole set up, which meant the set of dancers had been figured out tonight. There was going to be a showdown. He took off his scarf and wished that the showdown included him and Xavier—that twink was going to get what he deserved.

Uffie sat herself down on a chair a few tables away from the stage. “This place is fancier than I honestly expected,” she mused, looking around. “Do I wait here, or…?”

“Oh, yeah, no, wait, let me introduce you to my boss,” Sebastian said, snapping out of it. “You’re my VIP tonight, and Pedro has to know about it.” He dumped his bag and coat on the table in front of Uffie and looked for Pedro, with the girl walking behind him. “Pedro!” he called, finally finding his boss at the bar, speaking to the bartender. “Hey, Pedro. Hi, Irfane,” he said, raising a hand to greet the two.

“There you are, Seb,” Pedro greeted as Irfane smiled. “You are going on solo tonight,” he said, glancing at a piece of paper on the bar.

“What? So who’s on the set for the showdown?” Sebastian asked, crestfallen.

“Let’s see, we got… Xavier and Gaspard.”

“Then what’s the third pole for?” Seb asked, gesturing to the pole at the end of the catwalk.

“Customers like seeing the two of them work a pole together so I had that one set up for ‘em,” Pedro answered. “Those two are a fucking godsend, I swear.”

Sebastian frowned at his boss. “Wow, Pedro, that’s so sweet of you, really,” he said sourly.

“I didn’t mean to offend you!” Pedro said, reaching over to pinch Sebastian’s cheek. “You know you’re one of the best I have,” he cooed, making the bartender laugh.

Sebastian waved Pedro’s hand away. “You have a way with words, boss,” he said sarcastically. “This is Uffie, by the way. Roommate, best friend, and tonight’s VIP.”

“Is she now?” Pedro asked, pointedly looking at Sebastian, who in turn raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to argue. “Well, she looks the part,” he said, giving the girl a smile and thinking a backstage argument wouldn’t be worth it.

“Good,” Sebastian nodded. “Uffie, this is Pedro, the boss around here, and this is Irfane, the lovely bartender,” he said, gesturing to the bartender who looked good enough to be a model. “His drinks make people fall in love with him. I know I have.”

“Sebastian, you keep talking like that you’re getting me into trouble with Thibaut. Hello, Uffie, pleasure to meet you,” Irfane said, putting the glass he was wiping down on the counter.

Pedro held his hand out, which Uffie took. He brought Uffie’s hand to his lips and kissed lightly, his beard tickling the back of her hand. “Welcome to the Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club, Uffie. Any friend of my dancers’ is a friend of mine.” He let go and straightened himself. “Unfortunately, the VIP spot’s already been filled, and the most I can get you is a great seat and free drinks.”

As Uffie and Pedro talked, Sebastian remembered the man he met at the laundry shop earlier. Ice ran through his veins as he recalled how he looked like, and how The Necklace hung from his neck, shiny and mocking. In an effort to shake himself out of the memory, he started blinking rapidly—a habit developed over time, when there were some memories he simply didn’t want to remember.

“Seb, are you okay?” Irfane asked. His question caught the attention of Pedro and Uffie, who were in deep conversation about how the things in the club went.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian replied, setting a hand around Uffie’s waist. “I’m just going to… go change,” he muttered. “Uff, can you help me into my clothes tonight?”

“If the boss doesn’t mind,” she answered, looking to Pedro.

“It’s fine, little lady, go ahead,” Pedro said.

Sebastian took Uffie with him, picked up his coat and bag, and headed for the dressing room behind the stage. “Before anything else: if Xavier says something stupid, try your best to be patient. Please?”

Uffie pouted. “Fine. But if he crosses lines, what I do next isn’t anybody’s fault but his,” she warned. “Oh yeah—who’s Thibaut, anyway?”

“Irfane’s boyfriend of four years. He works backstage, too, you might meet him later.”

“God, why are all the hot ones gay?”

♥♥♥

 

Marie let herself fall on her bed with a grunt, making Maria take her headphones off.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, pressing PAUSE on her iPod.

“Nothing much,” Marie grumbled. “Just got fucking _fired_ today.”

Maria gaped at her friend. Marie was usually the more sensible of the two of them—why did she get fired? And who fires people at a laundry shop? “Wait, what? How’d that happen?”

Marie turned herself over and punched a teddy bear nestled in her pillows. “Ella happened, that’s what. Something happened at the shop, a sort of an accident, and I was really busy, you know? The next thing we knew, customers were bumping into each other and falling on their asses. Ella blamed me for it, saying I startled them, and that I wasn’t alert enough to stop it.” She remembered Ella’s litany about giving the customers the best service she could possibly offer with distaste—it wasn’t her fault that the two guys bumped into each other because one of them were in a hurry. What was the other guy’s deal, anyway? Lacy lingerie wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. If she had underwear _that_ pretty, she would announce it to the people in the street.

“Good riddance, I guess?” Maria offered, rather lamely. Her friend could do better than a boss like Ella. “Look, don’t worry, we’ll find new jobs soon.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?”

Maria, in response, only gave her a goofy smile. “I may or may not have broken the coffee machine at the café, so I’m speaking preemptively. I’m basically unemployed. Jeff just yelled at me after the customer left, so… hey, join the club.” Jeff, her manager, was a pretty okay guy, he was patient. But after she messed up quite a lot of orders, his patience grew thinner than the hair on his head. Maria figured it was best that she got fired. Better than dealing with a lawsuit.

“Jesus,” Marie said, burying her face in the pillows. If anything was bad, it was being unemployed in an expensive city like Paris. They could barely even pay the rent. Under the pillows she heard feet shuffling about. When she raised he head, Maria was putting a hoodie over her tank top. “Where are you going?”

“To Thibaut.” Maria answered, pulling her hair up into a messy bun. When Marie still gave her a clueless look, she spoke again. “Guy next door? The one with the dreamy boyfriend?”

“Oh, right.” Thibaut was their neighbor, she remembered, the one who lived in the apartment across theirs. He was a pretty shy guy, but he was kind. And he always seemed to work late, which was weird. “Why?”

“That guy’s magical. I bet he can help us.”

“How? Unless he owns a business we can ask to get into.”

“No, but I bet he’s got a few bottles of liquor to spare,” Maria said, heading for the door.

“How’d you know that?”

“His boyfriend’s a bartender, remember?”

♥♥♥

 

Back in his apartment, Vinco was still in disbelief. It had been hours ago, the chance encounter at the laundry shop, but The man in his dreams was real. Holy shit. He knew he’d meet him someday, he had a feeling in his guts, but he never thought he’d actually _see_ him that soon. He went to his kitchen to get himself a glass of water. As he held the pitcher, his hand shook a bit. He tried his best to remember every single detail of the other man’s face—it wasn’t the easiest to forget, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He showed up in his dreams for a reason. Pedro laughed at him once about him being a big believer in fate. _Who’s laughing now?_ he thought with a smile.

After drinking, he left the glass on the sink and went to his room. He replayed seeing the stranger in his head as if it was a scene from a movie, taking out the part where he frowned and left in a hurry, and putting the part where their hands touched on loop. Lying on his bed, he closed his eyes and let himself get stuck in his loop, a sense of accomplishment hanging around him.

He was about to slip into a nap when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Irked, he fished it out and took a look at the screen, which flashed a picture of Pedro making a face. Why would he call at such a time? He slid his finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear. “What?”

On the other end of the line, Pedro seemed like he was laughing. “Oh, hey, man. Listen, tonight we’re having a great show, there’s going to be a pair performance on the Ed Banger stage.” More laughter. “No, I don’t think Xavier will appreciate being called names by someone else, but good question,” he said, seemingly to another person. He cleared his throat and spoke to Vinco again. “Sorry. Hey, Vinco, don’t you want your week to start tonight? You’re kind of missing out.”

“No, I’m fine with tomorrow night,” Vinco said, ruffling his hair.

“Sure? Seb’s doing a solo tonight,” Pedro coaxed. “That’s the best time for you to get to know him.”

“Dude, your dancer isn’t my dream guy,” Vinco laughed. “Trust me, he isn’t.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Because I bumped into him today. He does not, in any way, look like one of your strippers.” Vinco had memorized the man’s face—not one inch of him said ‘stripper.’

“Oh,” Pedro flatly said. “But you’re still on for the week, right?”

Vinco made an ‘I-don’t-know’ noise through the phone.

“Don’t fucking bail on me, Vinco, I missed out on fifteen grand for your free week,” Pedro snapped.

“Chill. I’ll be there, don’t worry,” Vinco said with a chuckle before hanging up. Even though he found the guy in his dreams, he still didn’t have a name or a number. All he had was the crystal-clear memories of a striking face with eyes like the sky, and a distinct, low voice that gritted out the words “ _It’s fine, can you just… not_.” Still, it wouldn’t hurt to go to his friend’s club, now that he was getting the whole week free—he wasn’t even sure he was going to use up the whole week.

He spent a few more minutes in silence on his bed. Would he ever see the man again? Now that he’d seen him in real life, would he stop seeing him in his dreams? Vinco closed his eyes again for the last time that night, hoping to see the same face he’d seen earlier.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Please tell me you bought all of these shoes,” Uffie said as she took a seat in front of Sebastian’s mirror. She was looking at a corner of the communal dressing room that had a large rack of shoes, with each space filled with at least two pairs of glittery, sky-high heels. The shoes piqued her interest and she longed to see the pairs closer. “How do you know which ones are yours?” she asked, giving in to her curiosity and going to the rack. She let her hand float above the pairs of shoes, fingers wiggling, before she chose one to inspect: a sparkly, size 11 red pump with a five-inch stiletto heel. She felt a tinge of envy—the best shoes she owned were ‘sensible’ shoes, nude, with three-inch heels.

“We have different sizes,” Sebastian said from behind a screen. He was changing into his flimsy little costume—well, he was trying to. He couldn’t get the last few fasteners at the back and he was slowly getting pissed. “Can I get a hand? Thibaut’s running late, he usually helps me with this.”

Uffie put the shoe back with its pair and shuffled behind the screen. “Oh, wow, Seb,” she breathed. Even when he was struggling to put the rest of the lacy… thing on, Sebastian looked good. _Really_ good. The dark lace against his milky skin made him look like he was glowing—never mind the fact that he was built a bit softer than the other dancers—her roommate looked like any person’s dream. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re still single,” she said, going behind him to help. “You’re actually really hot, Sebos. Why are you single?”

Sebastian smiled. “The fact that I dance on poles and take my clothes off for strangers can be a deal-breaker for most guys,” he said, taking a deep breath to help Uffie do him up. God, did the fucking thing shrink over the week? Or did he gain weight? “I swear, this fit me like a glove last week,” he muttered.

When Uffie was done, she turned him around. “In my opinion, you look slamming. But are you comfortable in this?” She felt concerned for Seb. The lacy number looked great on him, but the bottom half of the outfit seemed to constrict his breathing.

“No, because I’m fat and I can’t fucking breathe in this. Why the fuck is this happening?” Sebastian said, scowling. He couldn’t believe it. After he’d been so excited to wear it all week, he couldn’t fit into it.

“Shut up. You’re not fat,” Uffie said, slapping his shoulder. “Take that off. Do you have anything else to wear?”

Sebastian bit his lip, mind zipping to find more options. “Well, it came with a long cape thing,” he said. “But I don’t know what I’ll wear under it.”

“Do you have a waist cincher or a corset?” Uffie asked. If there was anything she knew about flattering any body type from a few elective fashion classes, it was cinching the waist.

“I do, but I usually wear it under,” Sebastian said, wiggling out of the clothes. He had no qualms about being naked in front of Uffie, but because of the current situation, he felt a bit conscious about standing prone save for a garter belt and sheer thigh-high stockings.

“Well, this time you’re wearing it alone,” Uffie insisted. She went to Sebastian’s rack of clothes and rummaged until she found a velvet corset with a bottom part. “I don’t know if this is it, but here,” she said, waving the thing at Sebastian. She helped him into the corset and fastened the straps of the garter belt to his stockings.

“What would I do without you?” Sebastian said, adjusting the top of the corset, which ended well above his ribs. When Uffie answered him with a giggle, he reached for the lace cape and put it on. _Makeup, makeup, shoes_ , he thought, realizing he only had a few minutes until Gaspard and the spawn of Satan finished their joint act. “Could you hand me a pair of black, T-straps? There’s only one pair like that in there,” he said, nodding to the shoe rack. As Uffie went to get him his shoes he dabbed concealer under his eyes.

“Why don’t you take these home?” Uffie asked, holding the shoes by the heel.

“Because I know I’ll want to wear them out all the time,” Sebastian replied, drawing a perfect cat’s eye on his lids. “And I don’t want to risk messing them up. Pedro doesn’t like his dancers looking cheap.” He then dabbed red lip tint on his lips.

“Wait, let me see how you transform,” Uffie said, setting the heels on the table. She watched in awe as Sebastian, the same man who was groggy from sleep and had messed up hair earlier, turned himself into a sexpot, smacking his lips to even out the tint on his mouth, making him look ‘just-kissed’.

“Want to see how to create the perfect smoky eye?” Sebastian said, turning to the girl. He raised both of his pinky fingers, pressed at the edge of the still-fresh eyeliner, and slowly smudged the line towards the inner corners of his eyes. He checked himself in the mirror, smudged a bit more, smacked his lips, and turned back to Uffie. “That’s it.”

“Son of a bitch!” Uffie spat, to Sebastian’s amusement. She couldn’t even draw an even line with her kohl liner.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Are you staying over?” Thibaut asked meekly, not wanting to offend Marie and Maria. They knocked on his door just as he was leaving for work, so he had no choice but to entertain them (despite the fact that the only communication they ever really had before was small talk over the weather). Apparently they had just been recently unemployed, which was a bit unfortunate, since the two seemed like pretty sweet girls. They’d made themselves comfortable on the couch after telling him what had happened, and he thought it would be rude to send them away now. “I’m going to work tonight, and I’m running late, so…”

Marie waved her hand. “It’s fine,” she drawled. “We’ll take care of things here for you.” Maria was the one who really talked to the guy before, but after he readily offered them a listening ear and a couple of beers, she decided he wasn’t so bad. She didn’t peg him for a soft-spoken listener type with his hippie hair, but the way he nodded and listened to them instantly endeared him to her.

Thibaut tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Okay then. Take as much beer as you want, it’s okay. But please don’t touch the champagne, Irfane and I are saving it for something special.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Maria asked, sitting up properly at the mention of Thibaut’s boyfriend. She always had this habit of just looking out the window whenever she woke up early, and she always saw that Irfane and Thibaut would walk to the apartment building from work, holding hands. The two would always smile up at her, Irfane offering a little wave and Thibaut mouthing a ‘hello’. She respected that they had each other already, but she couldn’t help having such a big crush on the guy—he was just so cute. In all fairness, Thibaut had great taste.

Thibaut blushed. “It’s our anniversary next month so I wanted to… to…” he stammered, voice growing smaller. “I wanted to make it extra special.” What he meant was that he wanted Irfane, who was so frequently flanked at the Club by beautiful men (and occasionally women), to feel like he was the only man in the world. And he’d been told by Xavier that every sane, sexually active boyfriend wanted his own personal stripper. So he made plans to serve Irfane the bubbly, and then be his personal plaything/stripper/rent boy, if need be. But, of course, he told Marie and Maria none of that. “I’m running late, so please lock the door when you leave.”

“Hold on, Thibaut, I forgot to ask—where _do_ you work, anyway? It’s a bit late,” Marie asked.

“Oh, I work at a club,” the man said.

“What?”

“At a club. The Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club, to be exact,” Thibaut said with a little smile.

Marie raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Wow. Okay.”

“I really have to go. Don’t drink too much,” he said, closing the door behind him. The two girls sat in silence, looking at each other in shock. Their sweet, shy neighbor worked at one of the most exclusive nightclubs in the city. What the fuck.

“I told you he was magical,” Maria said after a while, standing up and walking around. Thibaut and Irfane’s apartment was a cozy place, with easy chairs and books all over the place. There wasn’t a wall that didn’t have at least one vintage record cover displayed on it, and to the side of the living room was a keyboard. Maria wondered which one of the two played it.

“He’s a sweetheart,” Marie agreed, stretching herself out on the couch. “But are we seriously going to stay here and drink up all his stuff? I feel guilty. Especially now that, you know, we _don’t have jobs_.”

“No, we’re not staying over,” Maria said. “I still can’t believe he works at a club.”

“Me neither.” Marie followed suit and stood up. “Think he dances there?”

“You never know, with Thibaut.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco dreamt of the same man again that night. He dreamt he was standing, just standing there, dressed all in black and barefoot in a meadow. The sky was grey, but it didn’t seem foreboding. The man was staring up at the clouds above, as if waiting for something.

After a while of just staring, Vinco saw himself stand up from where he was sitting and go to the man. As he stepped closer, rain started to fall in slow motion.

The man’s eyes fluttered close as the first few drops fell on his face. He sighed, as if in relief. Goddamn, he was beautiful. Vinco reached out to touch his shoulder. Upon contact the man opened his eyes and stared at him, not with the frenzied look he always gave him, but with warmth, like he’d waited for Vinco for a long time.

“It’s you,” Vinco had said, making the man smile. “You’re here again,” he continued, making it clear to himself that, yes, he was here, even after he’d seen him in real life.

“Yes, I’m here,” the man answered, a lilt of amusement in his voice. “I’m making it rain,” he said, pointing a finger at the grey sky overhead.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Sebastian, you made it _rain_ out there,” Thibaut remarked, helping Sebastian back to the dressing room. He’d come in late, but he reached the end of the man’s performance—Thibaut thought he was particularly amazing when he slid down the pole and lowered himself into a slow split, settling himself on the scattered bills on the stage. Sebastian was a quiet person, like him, but he was way more confident. How he longed to be as confident as him. “Do you need help with that?” he asked, offering to carry the lace cape that Sebastian used as a container for all his cash.

Sebastian smiled and shook his head, balancing the flimsy cape in his arms—he didn’t want a single bill falling out. He did pretty well tonight. “No, thanks, Thibaut.” He reveled in the feeling onstage, feeling totally in control and calm and _desirable_. The club was full tonight, as usual, and he reaped the benefits. Thank God for Uffie’s help. “I could use a drink though.”

Thibaut nodded and left to get him a drink. Sebastian click-clacked into the dressing room and headed for his table. He really needed to take these shoes off—he wasn’t performing again until later, and he told Pedro that he wasn’t taking requests for lap dances tonight, so any time he got to rest his feet from heels he used to just chill. He set the cape down and sighed. His thoughts drifted to the bidder he’d seen earlier. Where was he? Not that he was looking for him, he believes he isn’t, but it was a Friday, and usually bidders came in on a Friday. It’s how things went.

“Well someone raked in the cash tonight,” a voice said from behind him. Sebastian looked up at the mirror to see Xavier smirking at him, all decked out in a tiny sequined costume. A sheen could be seen on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose—Sebastian figured it was sweat. Xavier had just given a lap dance, most probably. That, or he was simply going through puberty. He could swear that Xavier was secretly underage, with his skinny limbs and immature personality.

“Look at you, all wrung out. Was that performance a workout for you?” Xavier asked sweetly, taking a bill from Sebastian’s pile and waving it.

Sebastian snatched the bill from between Xavier’s fingers. “Go find a dick and suck it, Xavier,” he said, starting to arrange the bills he collected and forming them into a small tower of cash.

“I would, but Gaspard’s busy working the stage,” Xavier replied, going to his table and taking a tissue to dab at his face. He didn’t want sweat messing with his eyeliner. “So!” he exclaimed with a smile as he turned to Sebastian, “that cape looks familiar. Didn’t you bring that in last week? You know how Pedro hates it when his dancers repeat their clothes.”

“You’re right, this cape did come in last week. With a set, actually,” Sebastian said, unfastening the strap of his shoes. “That you ruined with your drink.”

“Oh, Seb, that was an accident!” Xavier defended, touching his chest in mock-offense. He faced his mirror again. “And I was doing you a favor anyway. That costume wouldn’t have fit you,” Xavier stated, smiling at his reflection.

Sebastian felt his cheeks heating up. No matter how much he hated it, Xavier was right. He struggled with the costume earlier, even with Uffie’s help. “God, I hope you trip on your heels and shatter your ankle,” Sebastian said, giving Xavier a sour look. He was a patient person, he truly was, but patience could only go so far when you dealt with a person like Xavier on a daily basis.

Xavier pouted at him. “That’s never going to happen because unlike you, I’m a size zero, at most a two. And unlike you I would never slip on the poles like you did last week. I’m light enough to hold on,” he said, giving Sebastian a smile. “If I were you, I’d lay off the butter for a long while.” He blew Sebastian a kiss and walked away, eager to get someone to buy him a drink. He was about to head out the side door when something hard hit him square on the back. Something clunked to the floor, next to his foot. It was Sebastian’s hairbrush. He whipped around and shot Sebastian a nasty look.

“I’m sorry, did that hurt? I guess my throw wasn’t light enough,” Sebastian drawled, crossing his legs and touching the tip of his middle finger to his tongue, which he then raised to swipe on his eyebrow. “Don’t furrow your brows, babydoll.”

Xavier stalked towards Sebastian, livid. “You _bitch_ ,” he spat. He raised a fist and got ready to meet the larger man with a punch when someone grabbed his arm and twisted him around.

“Xavier, stop it,” Gaspard said calmly, his grip on Xavier’s arm tight. He had just finished his solo and this was not the scene he wanted to arrive to. “You don’t want Pedro on your case again.”

Gaspard stopping him only pissed Xavier off more. He pulled at his arm but Gaspard only gave him a stern look. If there was anyone who could look menacing in a pair of tiny shorts it was Gaspard. “ _Let me go_ ,” he said, irritated. When Gaspard still didn’t let go, Xavier turned to Sebastian and clawed at him, grasping only air.

It was amusing, really, seeing Xavier pissed and making angry noises because he couldn’t touch him. Sebastian smiled. But he was knocked out of his little bubble of delight when Xavier’s fist finally landed a punch on his face. On reflex he punched back, earning a shout from the other. Fucking kid.

Gaspard was doing his best to keep the two away from each other—seriously, Xavier could _not_ be handled when he was throwing a tantrum—when Thibaut walked in with Sebastian’s drink. “A little help would be appreciated,” Gaspard grunted, trying to carry Xavier away.

Thibaut panicked and set the glass of vodka on Sebastian’s table. Xavier was really going for it, grabbing at whatever part of Sebastian was in reach. Sebastian, at the same time, was doing his best to hit Xavier through his flailing limbs. It looked like a hot mess altogether. Thibaut tried to get between them but only made it worse—he put himself in Xavier’s line of fire.

Sebastian stopped trying to hit Xavier because Thibaut stood in the way. Thank God—he needed a fucking drink.

Xavier was still throwing punches while shouting expletives—he didn’t give a shit if he hit Sebastian or Thibaut, he just wanted to fucking hit _somebody_.

And he did.

Thibaut gave out a cry of pain when Xavier punched him square on the nose.

 

♥♥♥

 

Irfane was serving up shots for a small group when he felt something was up. He put the glasses on a tray and walked quickly to Pedro, who was sitting in the VIP lounge with Uffie and some clients. “I think something’s wrong backstage, man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xavier's a little mean-spirited in this one, but he'll be good next time, I PROMISE.
> 
> Leave a comment y'all, I'd love to listen to what you guys think :D


	3. Prepping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry for updating this really late, I was out of town and service week happened sorryyyyyy 
> 
> I hope this long-ass chapter compensates for things

“How did this shit start again?” Pedro asked, trying to keep himself from raising his voice. It was thirty minutes past four in the morning and the club had closed for the day. The filler dancers had already gone home, and only a few people were left in the club, namely himself, Uffie (the girl insisted that she and Sebastian went home together), Sebastian, Xavier, and Gaspard. Seated on the bar counter was Thibaut, who sported a still-swollen nose, and leaning against the counter was Irfane, who was not at all pleased at what happened to his boyfriend.

Sebastian looked to one side and crossed his arms, avoiding Pedro’s accusatory glare. Xavier huffed and looked the other way while Gaspard sighed.

“I’m going to ask you two again, because it seems that you two are still acting like children— _who started this?_ ” Pedro said with more force. Squabbles between Seb and Xavier happened all the time, honestly, and he’d learned to be patient with them. After all, both Seb and Xavier were competitive divas. Putting the two in the same room would, of course, cause friction backstage. Pedro expected that.

But he never expected an _actual_ fight. If it wasn’t for Irfane’s ‘Thibaut’s-in-trouble’ senses tingling, the fight could have been worse. It was embarrassing—he’d been speaking to Ed Banger’s most valued patrons, Mr. Bangalter and Mr. de Homem-Christo (who were as mysterious as they were rich) when Irfane approached him, saying that there was trouble backstage. He had to leave his best clients in the middle of what was possibly the most important business conversation of his life.

True enough, there _was_ trouble backstage. He and Irfane got to the dressing room in time—Thibaut had been knocked to the ground, sitting stupefied with a bloodied-up nose. Gaspard was doing his best to pull Xavier away, Xavier was mad as a wild cat, a scratch on his lower lip, and Sebastian was keeping Xavier at arm’s length, cheek bruised. Thank God the club was dark, and that the two knew their makeup well enough to cover the marks up.

“Xavier started it,” Sebastian drawled.

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Xavier spat, making a move to get close enough to Sebastian to hit him, only to be stopped by Gaspard who shushed him and put his arm around him to stop him from moving. “I was trying to give him a compliment! I said, ‘Wow, look who raked in the cash tonight’, and then I noticed that the cape he wore in his solo was the same thing he brought in last week, so I told him, ‘Pedro doesn’t like it when his dancers repeat outfits’—”

“I wasn’t repeating an outfit because _you fucked it up last week, oh my God_ ,” Sebastian cut in, the urge to wring Xavier’s little neck getting stronger by the second. He exhaled loudly and turned to Pedro. “Look, Pedro, this got out of hand. Xavier was just being real, and I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. He was only being true to himself, excuse him.”

Everyone was shocked at Sebastian’s change of tone towards Xavier. Even Xavier stared at him in confusion.

Sebastian turned to Xavier and smiled at him sweetly before continuing to speak. “He was just being the child he truly was.”

Uffie, who watched silently as they spoke, couldn’t help but let out a snort while trying to contain her laughter. Pedro sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. Xavier, however, was livid, face red as a cherry.

“I had to leave a really, _really_ important conversation, just to make sure that you two,” Pedro said, pointing at Xavier and Sebastian, “didn’t kill each other while preparing for the next acts, because apparently, Thibaut’s presence didn’t stop you from having a go at each other.”

“I’m sorry…” Thibaut murmured, downcast.

“Shh, it wasn’t your fault, baby,” Irfane said, squeezing Thibaut’s knee.

Pedro waved the apology away. “It’s not your fault, Thibaut, you did what you could. It’s their fault,” he said, frowning at Xavier and Sebastian. God, how was he going to handle these two? “I swear, if you two won’t stop with this fuckery, I will have no choice but to fire your asses. Go at it one more time, _one more time_ , and you are out of here.” When he was answered with expressions of disbelief, he snapped his fingers. “I’m not fucking around. You two are my best performers, but I can’t have you two acting like bitches backstage. _Do you understand_?”

Xavier gathered his things and tugged on Gaspard’s arm. “Sure thing, _boss_ ,” he said as he walked off, the last word seeming like a loud-and-clear version of ‘Fuck You’ to Pedro.

“Sorry for this, Pedro,” Gaspard said before getting pulled away.

When Xavier and Gaspard left, Sebastian spoke. “Are you really going to fire us?” he asked quietly. He felt a little guilty—Xavier was bound to say something stupid because he was younger. The fact that he threw the other man a hairbrush didn’t help anything. It was on him. He should’ve simply given him the finger. “I’m sorry.”

“No, of course not. I wasn’t going to fire you,” Pedro said, walking towards Sebastian. “I’m just going to keep yelling at you two until you get annoyed enough and actually listen to me. I hope it’s working, though. I don’t want to _actually_ fire you.” When he saw Sebastian smile, he gave him a pat on his shoulder. “You were great out there last night, Seb. Go on home,” he said, nodding in the direction of the door.

Sebastian couldn’t help but get a warm feeling in his chest at Pedro’s words. Sure, he was insufferable and fussy sometimes, but he was a great boss, and he truly cared for them. He gave him a peck on the cheek before going to Uffie. “Thanks, Pedro.”

Pedro smiled. “You’re welcome. And tell Uffie I thank her for speaking to the patrons while I was backstage.”

“Will do. Drive safe, boss,” Sebastian said. He went to Uffie, who was seated at a table nearby. “Let’s go?” he asked the girl, offering his arm for the girl to hold.

“Let’s,” Uffie said, taking her friend’s arm. She turned to Pedro. “It was great meeting you, Pedro. Last night was a party.”

“Thank _you_ , little lady,” Pedro answered with a little bow. “Come back soon.”

“I will,” Uffie giggled.

After Sebastian and Uffie left, Pedro went to Thibaut and Irfane. “How’s your nose, Thibaut?”

“Still hurts a bit. I don’t think anything’s broken, though,” Thibaut replied.

“Pedro, Thibaut can’t keep being the buffer between Xavier and Seb,” Irfane said, worry-stricken.

“I know. I’m thinking of hiring more people,” Pedro said. “Not even the filler dancers can stop those two. We really need people backstage to help Thibaut.”

“I can handle them, I just got shocked,” Thibaut said, a bit too defensively. If there was anything he hated, it was looking and feeling weak in front of people.

“I know you can, but we really do need extra hands backstage. The dancers can’t be expected to clean up their things between acts, and we also need more servers,” Pedro answered. “It’s not you, Thibaut. Don’t worry.” After a beat of silence, Pedro spoke again. “If you know anyone who’s up for it, let me know. See to that nose, okay?”

Thibaut nodded and hopped off the counter. Irfane took his hand and squeezed his hand, a nonverbal question. _Are you okay?_

 _I’m fine_ , Thibaut squeezed back. “Good night, Pedro. Or good morning.”

“Good morning-night to you, too,” Pedro said. “Be careful.” When the last couple left, Pedro went behind the bar and fixed himself a Scotch. He was driving later, but surely a glass wouldn’t buzz him too much. After all, he really needed to relax, given what happened last night. He stood there, alone with his glass half full, and at that moment, he was satisfied.

 

♥♥♥

 

Maria woke up too early again. She stood by the open window with her cup of coffee—instant, since she couldn’t be trusted with anything else—idle and a bit frustrated. She’d tried going back to sleep, but when her incessant tossing and turning didn’t do anything but make noise, she gave up and got out of bed.

She looked back at her roommate, who was sound asleep. Once Marie was sleeping, nothing could wake her up, a trait which Maria envied. Unlike her friend, she could be woken up with a simple shove or a small noise. Camping was hell for her.

As she watched the sky change colors, Maria sipped the coffee and thought of different ways to get a job. She was a college graduate, but there was only so much a girl could do with an Arts degree. Bothered, she cast her eyes to the street, only to see Thibaut and his boyfriend approaching the building. _The happy couple_ , she thought, smiling at how cute the two were together. Irfane had an arm around Thibaut’s shoulder; Thibaut, on the other hand, seemed glued to Irfane’s side.

It was only when they passed by a streetlamp did Maria notice that Thibaut’s nose was red, and that there were remnants of crusted blood under his nostrils. Maria couldn’t help herself. “What happened?” she shouted at the pair, to her roommate’s irritation.

“Shut up,” Marie grumbled, burrowing under her pillows.

“Sorry,” Maria apologized. She poked her head out the window, waiting for a reply from either Thibaut or Irfane.

“Got a bit scraped at the club,” Irfane yelled back. The girl nodded and disappeared into the dark of her room. In a few minutes, she opened the main door of the apartment complex for them. “Thanks,” Irfane said, feeling slightly embarrassed. He’d always see the girl at her window almost every morning, and she was one of their across-the-hall neighbors—however, her name always slipped his mind.

“Don’t mention it. Jeez, Thibaut, did you get into a fight?” Maria asked, to which Thibaut shook his head.

“It was an accident,” Thibaut replied meekly.

“Yeah, Xavier’s fist ‘accidentally’ hit his face,” Irfane added, fishing for their keys in his messenger bag. “Let me see your nose, baby,” he said, worrying at his boyfriend’s nose again. The swelling had subsided, but it was still a bit red.

“Technically it _was_ an accident,” Thibaut countered, an edge to his voice.

Irfane held his hands up in defense. “Fine! Fine, but we need to get that patched up. Pedro’s got enough to worry about.”

Maria figured that this Pedro persona was the one they worked for. “If you need a first aid kit or something, we have one,” she offered. Technically what she and Marie had was a box of basics, like gauze, tape, disinfectants, and a whole bunch of Band-Aids, but she really wanted to help.

“That would really help, thanks,” Irfane smiled. The three of them went up the stairs together, exchanging small talk. It was only when Thibaut mentioned the girl’s name in conversation did Irfane remember that he’d seen her before, other than when she was looking out her window. She worked at a café a block away from the apartment complex, a cozy little place that had little paper stars on each table. He and Thibaut had coffee there before—strangely enough, she’d only served them black coffee.

When they got to the hall that separated Maria and Marie’s room from theirs, the girl went to her door. “I’ll bring you guys the kit, hold on.”

“Thanks so much, Maria,” Irfane said again, earning a smile from the girl before she went into her room. He turned to Thibaut and noticed how he was trying to scrunch up his nose. “What are you doing?”

“My nose itches, but it hurts to scratch it,” Thibaut said, still trying to wiggle his nose. “I don’t know why, but I think it’s bleeding again.”

“Tilt your head up, there you go, and pinch your nose—not so much!” Irfane directed, trying to help his boyfriend. It was a bit difficult because Thibaut was taller than he was. “There,” he said once Thibaut was doing what he’d said. He opened the door to their apartment as Thibaut let himself in and sit on the couch.

“I feel horrible,” Thibaut said, still looking up. He hated making other people worry about him, especially people he loved. Just for once he wanted _not_ to be a damsel in distress for Irfane to stress about.

“If this is still about last night, stop it,” Irfane said, sitting beside Thibaut. “Don’t feel bad, don’t feel guilty, just don’t. You tried to stop Seb and Xavier, things got out of hand, none of that was your fault. It’s okay. Okay?” When Thibaut still looked at him like an upset puppy, Irfane leaned over and pressed his lips to his. “It’s fine, baby.” Kiss. “It wasn’t your fault.” Kiss. “I’m not mad.” Another kiss. “Pedro isn’t mad,” Irfane concluded, punctuating his sentence with another playful peck. When Thibaut finally smiled, he leaned over and kissed him again, because there was never enough kisses when it came to Thibaut. Soon the playfulness turned into something more as Irfane deepened his kisses, his hand finding its way to Thibaut’s lap.

Thibaut set his hands on either side of Irfane’s face, the other man’s beard tickling his palms. He nudged in closer, his body starting to crave contact, more contact, more of this man he loved so much.

“We haven’t slept yet,” Irfane breathed, kissing his way down Thibaut’s jawline, leaving little nips and bites here and there.

“I don’t care,” Thibaut answered, bringing Irfane back up to kiss him again on the mouth.

The two were making out—and were well on their way to taking their clothes off—when there was a knock at the door. “Do you guys want me to leave this here, or…?” asked Maria.

Irfane laughed. Maybe it was a sign that they should really just get some sleep this morning. Sex had to wait, unfortunately. “Hold on,” he called before standing up to get the door. “Thanks again for this,” he said, standing a bit behind the door as he took the kit—all that kissing made him hard, and he didn’t want to weird his well-meaning neighbor out.

“No problem,” Maria said. “Do you want me to swing by again later, when you’re done?”

“Oh no, we’ll bring it to you later,” Irfane said. After the girl left, he closed the door and held up the kit for Thibaut to see. “Let’s get that nose fixed up,” he said, wiggling the kit a bit.

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco woke up at noon, feeling a strain in his pants. He sat up, setting his weight on his elbows, and saw that he was hard.  He frowned and let himself fall back on the bed with a huff—morning wood was normal, but he never experienced waking up at noon with a boner. And his jeans didn’t help anything, either.

He decided to take a shower, since he’d been wearing the same clothes since yesterday, and he had quite a lot of things to do before evening fell. Tonight he was going to Pedro’s club, free of charge, and pretty needlessly. He didn’t have to meet Pedro’s dancer, the one that Bertrand said looked like how he described the guy in his dreams (Sam? Seb? The name escaped him). He’d met him in real life, and the man didn’t look like a stripper _at all_. But a few drinks with attractive men around him wouldn’t hurt anybody.

Vinco shucked off his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom, leaving them on the floor to pick up later. He passed by the mirror and thought about shaving his scruff off for the night, but then decided against it. Before he stepped into the cubicle, he unclasped Pedro’s necklace and tossed it towards the edge of the sink, hoping it wouldn’t slip off the porcelain and fall to the ground, or worse, into the sink itself. When he heard the pendants clinking against the surface of the edge, he turned the shower on and stood under the spray of cold water. It never bothered him, even when he woke up early—he enjoyed feeling the water gradually change temperature. And he hoped it would help his half-hard boner subside.

When the water was warm enough, he grabbed the soap and started to wash himself. Through the rush of water, Vinco heard a faint ringing sound. _Fuck_ , he cursed inwardly as he clicked his tongue and kept lathering up. The call could wait. Once the ringing stopped he reached for the bottle of shampoo and wished he bought the more expensive kind. As he scrubbed his hair, he let his thoughts drift back to the stranger in his dreams. Last night he’d seen him again in slow-motion rain (that meant something, he just didn’t know what), and even spoke to him. He remembered how his voice had a hint of coldness, like he could take you or leave you, and that it had a roughness that made him shiver.

Vinco felt his cock harden again at the thought of the stranger saying different things to him—intimate things, things meant to be whispered and gasped and moaned in the confines of a bedroom. He started to stroke himself, eyes fluttering close at the sensation. He imagined the stranger talking to him, telling him what to do. He could feel the suds in his hair washing away, but he didn’t care anymore. In his mind’s eye, the stranger was behind him, watching, whispering.

 _Touch yourself for me_ , the stranger said, voice like velvet, words ghosting Vinco’s ear. _I want to see how you make yourself come_.

Vinco’s breathing grew ragged. His strokes quickened, his thumb flicking over the head of his cock with each rub. He tightened his grip on himself, feeling the familiar burn of a building orgasm in his gut and decided that he would draw this out a bit more. He slowed his strokes down, twisting his wrist as he rubbed up and down his shaft, thoughts going a mile a minute as he felt his orgasm building and building to a peak, until he had to lean towards the wall in front of him with his free hand because _oh dear God it feltsofuckinggood—_

His orgasm hit hard, making him release a choked moan as ribbons of white spurted from the tip of his cock, washing away with the still-running water from the shower. Slowly he coasted down, catching his breath and noticing that the warm water from the shower was now replaced by cold water. _Great_ , he thought as he cleaned himself up. _I just masturbated to a stranger’s imagined voice._ He straightened up and finished his shower, feeling a bit peeved by the whole situation. As he stepped out of the shower he toweled off, heading for his bed to see who had called him.

Two missed calls from Bertrand. “Oh shit,” Vinco muttered, swiping over his screen to give the guy a call. “Bertrand, I am so sorry, what’s up?”

“Yo, where’ve you been? I tried calling you twice,” Bertrand said, lowering the volume of his TV.

Vinco felt a blush creep up to his cheeks as he remembered what kept him. “Shower. Sorry. What’s going on?”

“Nothing much, actually. Just checking in. Pedro told me to call and tell you that there’s a surprise for you tonight, at the Club,” Bertrand quipped, a smile evident in his voice.

Vinco tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear while he rummaged through his closet for a shirt. “Dude, you of all people know that I don’t do surprises, especially not the ones where Pedro’s involved. What is it? I can act surprised later, trust me.”

Bertrand could only laugh. “Sorry, man. But don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough, in a few hours.” When he only heard a groan from the other line, he continued. “Remember—look like you actually spent on Pedro’s necklace. Got it?”

 _Pedro’s necklace_ , Vinco remembered, taking hold of the phone again and padding back to bathroom to get the necklace. He’d left it on the sink before he took a shower.

Only it wasn’t there.

Bertrand sensed something wrong as he heard rustling in the background. “Vinco? You there?”

“Fuck,” Vinco said, forgetting about Bertrand on the phone. Did it fall into the sink’s drain?

“ _Vinco, did you lose Pedro’s necklace?_ ”

Just as Vinco was about to panic he felt something cool under his foot. He bent over to find that the necklace was there, the cat-faced pendant seemingly sticking its tongue out to tease him. It must have fallen off the edge of the sink after a poor throw. “No, I didn’t lose it, chill,” he assured, picking the thing up. The little pendants dangled freely, glinting in the light. “I’m holding it right now.”

“Good. Listen, I have to go. I’ll see you tonight, man. Look expensive, all right?”

“Wow, you’re really rubbing it in, huh?” Vinco asked sarcastically, earning a laugh from his friend before he hung up. He set his phone on the edge of the sink and put the necklace on. He still had a suit to pick up for tonight.

 

♥♥♥

 

It was late afternoon when Thibaut returned the first aid kit to Marie and Maria’s. “Thanks a lot for this,” he said when Marie (and a deliciously sweet smell) greeted him at the door.

“Don’t mention it. Do you want to come in? We’re making mug cakes,” Marie said, taking the kit and stepping to the side in case the man did want to come in.

“I didn’t know you bake,” Thibaut mused as he walked into the apartment. He looked around and noticed that, even though the apartments in this complex were pretty much the same size, this one seemed bigger, with less furniture and less clutter in general. There were a lot of beanbags on the floor in front of a large TV, a bookshelf near the window, and in the corner was a blue-and-white surfboard. “Yours?” he asked again, pointing at the board.

Marie set the kit on a table. “Maria’s. And mug cakes don’t really need ‘baking’,” she said, leading Thibaut into the kitchen/dining area, where her roommate was taking a mug out of a microwave oven. “We’ve got company, roomie,” she said to Marie, as she ushered Thibaut into a seat in front of the counter.

Maria set the mug on the surface behind the counter. “Thibaut! How’s the nose?” she chirped, removing the oven mitt she wore.

“Better than this morning, thanks,” Thibaut smiled. “ _That’s_ a mug cake?” he asked, looking over the counter to see the thing clearly. He’d seen a recipe of a mug cake online, but he always thought it would be a mess if you weren’t a professional when you tried making it.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not done yet,” Marie said, going to the refrigerator and taking a can of whipped cream. She sniggered deviously as she sprayed a generous amount of cream on top of the cake. When she finished, the little tower of cream was four inches tall. “Fabulous,” she whispered, adding a bit more before Maria snatched the can from her.

“You’re going to die of cream poisoning,” Marie said, putting the can on the counter.

“Then I’m going to die happy,” Marie smirked, taking a seat beside Thibaut after she took two spoons from a cupboard. “I dare you to try it,” she said, handing Thibaut a spoon.

Thibaut looked at the mug topped with cream and, quite honestly, felt intimidated. But the scent chocolate and vanilla was just too inviting. He dug his spoon into the side of the cream ‘tower’ until he felt the actual cake, scooped up a portion, and put it into his mouth. “Oh my God,” he said, chewing the cake. He’d tasted really good things before, but there was nothing as sinful (and strangely, as comforting) as this mug cake. “This is really good.”

“Oh, thank God. I thought it was going to suck because I put too much chocolate in mine,” Marie said, digging in. “I heard something happened at work last night,” she commented in between chews.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Thibaut said, shaking his head. God, this cake was good. The microwave oven _ding!_ -ed. “Which reminds me!” Thibaut said again, pausing from taking another portion. “How’s the job-finding thing? Any luck?”

Maria took her mug cake out of the oven and put a smaller amount of whipped cream on hers. “Not so good, so far. Marie’s having trouble, too,” she said, throwing her friend a nod. “Basically, we’re fucked in that department, and we’re distracting ourselves with these,” she continued with a frown, stabbing a spoon into her mug.

Thibaut chewed on the end of the spoon. “If you’re interested, Pedro’s looking for more people, you know. At the Club. If you want to, you could come with me later, we could go early so we can talk—”

“Thibaut, we’re not going to dance at some club for money,” Marie said, cutting him short. “No disrespect to the ones who do, but I’m not down with it.”

“Speak for yourself, I can roll with it,” Maria said, taking a spoonful of cake. “There’s a ‘look-don’t-touch’ policy in your club, right?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have to dance there. Ed Banger is… a special club, for men with special tastes. Usually, it’s only guys, but now and then, we have female customers,” Thibaut replied. He put the spoon down on the countertop and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “I work backstage, in the dressing rooms. The dancers are usually busy, so I tidy up while they’re performing or… doing something else,” he shrugged. “And Pedro says I need someone to help me so…” he trailed, giving the two girls expectant looks.

Marie smacked her lips. “I don’t know, I mean you _did_ get punched in the face by a dancer, as said by Maria.”

“It was an _accident_ ,” Thibaut defended, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Please? My boss won’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t have anyone to help me.” Technically, what he was saying wasn’t a lie—Pedro wouldn’t really allow him to stay within reach of Seb and Xavier, and he would worry about him. But it also wasn’t all true, either.

“Sign me up,” Maria said, smiling with excitement.

“It _is_ just helping backstage, right?” Marie asked with skepticism still in her tone.

Thibaut nodded. “Tidying up, helping them with costumes and makeup, that’s it.”

Marie sighed and scooped up a large, cream-laden portion of cake. “I’m in.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Sebastian was on the stage, warming up. For some reason, Pedro wanted him to take up more solo time tonight, and even though it was highly amusing to see Xavier whine about how he was ‘stealing the weekend slots’, it did worry him a little bit. More solos meant more choreography, so he had to think quick. Clad in a loose shirt and tiny shorts, he took a few deep breaths and started to stretch.

The bidder—the one with the silver hair and the crooked smile—was probably starting his free week tonight. Sebastian bit his lip as he got into a low lunge, feeling his hamstrings stretching as he continued lowering himself until he got into a side split. He smiled to himself—usually, a side split with heels on was a bit of a challenge. Now, it felt natural. He stayed in the split for a few counts before he slowly brought his legs together and sat back. He leaned forward and reached for his toes.

“Careful now, Sebby, you might break your back,” said Xavier, who was walking on the stage behind him.

Wow, perfect. The skank was early, for once. “Please fuck all the way off, Xavier,” Sebastian said, holding his calves and making a show of it, hoping Xavier would shut up.

“You’re just jealous because all my costumes fit,” Xavier said in a sing-song voice.

“And you’re jealous of all my solos tonight,” Sebastian sang back. He heard stomping that disappeared down the steps to the dressing room. That shut him up. Sebastian sniggered. He got up, flexing and shaking his limbs, and got ready to practice on the poles when the door opened.

In walked Thibaut with two very familiar girls. He seemed to be talking to them casually, smiling every now and then as one of the girls spoke.

“Sebastian!” Thibaut called.

Sebastian sat down and hopped off the edge of the stage, and then click-clacked over to where they were. “Hi, Thibaut, you’re here early.” Why was everyone so early, what the fuck was going on?

“I’m taking these two to Pedro, they’re going to help me backstage,” Thibaut said, turning to the girls who smiled at him as if they shared a secret. “This is Marie,” he gestured to the purple-haired one, “and this is Maria,” he gestured to the coffee shop girl.

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. Sweet, sweet Thibaut brought two ladies to help him backstage. With Xavier. _The_ Xavier, the very same one who would sucker-punch a guy for getting him the wrong drink. He was at a loss for words. “Okay then,” he said, nodding with a terse smile. God help these two. “Pedro’s in his office, I guess. I’m Sebastian, by the way,” he said, more to the girls. “Yes, we’ve met before. No, I don’t want to talk about it,” he continued, seeing how the girls wanted to speak. He wasn’t being rude, though—he just had to get back to choreography.

Thibaut caught the hint and ushered the girls towards a back hallway, to the side of the stage. Thankfully it wasn’t that dark in the club yet, so he could navigate his way through a narrow hall that led to Pedro’s office. “Pedro? It’s Thibaut.”

“Come on in, Thibaut,” a voice behind the door said.

Thibaut let himself and the girls into Pedro’s office: a dimly-lit, windowless room with minimalistic but obviously lush furniture. It was like a reflection of the Club itself—dark, opulent, and expensive. “I brought people who are interested in the backstage work positions.”

Pedro stood up from his seat behind the desk, smiling. Marie noticed, through the dark, that his canines stood out a little, making him look like a vampire. A friendly vampire.

“Thank goodness. Come closer, girls, let me see you,” Pedro said, beckoning for them to come closer. He could see that one of them had purple hair—that was an easy identifier—and that the other one had longer, messier hair. When they stepped forward, he saw that the purple-haired one had friendly eyes, the kind that seemed to always have a smile in them. The other one with the longer hair had eyes that drooped down and seemed like they were judging him. Compared to this girl, the first one seemed more awake. “What are your names?”

“Marie,” the purple-haired girl drawled.

“Maria,” the droopy-eyed one chirped.

Huh, that was strange. The way they spoke seemed switched. “Well, I’m not going to beat around the bush. Do you want the job?” When he got nods from them, Pedro continued. “Okay, so can you start tonight? It’s a busy night, and Thibaut is going to need all the help he can get. If you can’t, that’s fine as well.”

“We can do it tonight,” Maria said, glancing at Marie, and then back to Pedro. “We’re not busy anyway. So, yes, yeah, tonight’s good.”

Pedro clapped his hands together. “Perfect! Let’s take you backstage, I’ll introduce you to my star dancers. The filler dancers tidy up after themselves, so the most you’ll get to do around them is to check their costumes before they go onstage.” He stood and went past Thibaut and the girls, walking fast and expecting them to follow. There was no time to lose, it was already getting dark. Once night would fall, the club would open its doors. “I trust you’ve met Sebastian? The ‘Snow White’ practicing onstage earlier?”

“Yeah, we’ve met him before,” Marie said, keeping up. The four went through a lower staircase.

“Watch your step, it’s a bit dark here,” Thibaut mumbled.

They went down the stairs when Pedro stopped in front of an arch with a heavy curtain. “This is the dressing room,” he said with a flourish as he pulled the curtain aside to let Thibaut, Marie, and Maria in.

The dressing room was pretty big for a… well, club dressing room. There was a huge shoe rack holding what looked like twelve pairs of shoes in one corner, and beside it was a single clothes rack with hangers of glittery, velvety, and lacy costumes. To the other side of the room was the same setup, only with two clothes racks and no shoe rack. There were three vanity tables with large mirrors lined with light bulbs. On the tables were different palettes of eye makeup and bottles of perfume and lotion and tubes of lip tint and other things. The place reminded Maria of the Broadway show _Chicago_. Everything about the place was so glamorous in a behind-the-scenes way.

 “Wow,” Maria whispered, looking around. She was so taken with the atmosphere of the room that she didn’t notice Xavier and Gaspard, the former perched on a chair, legs dangling off one side, and the latter standing against the wall.

“These are the new ones?” Xavier said, casting the two girls a slightly mean look. He noticed that one of them had purple hair (a bit wild-- he guessed this one was an artsy type), and the other had eyes that kind of drooped down at the corners, making her look tired and a bit condescending.

“Yes, they are, so be nice, Xavier. We’ve talked about this,” Pedro said sternly. “This is Xavier, and his partner, Gaspard. The sweethearts of the club.”

Xavier only chuckled. “Names?”

“Marie,” Purple-Hair answered.

“Maria,” Droopy-Eyes answered.

Gaspard cocked his head to one side. “You guys sisters?”

“No, we're not,” Maria smiled. Compared to Xavier, this man was taller and nicer, although really silent. He had curly brown hair that looked really, really soft, and long lean legs.

“It just so happened that our names sounded kind of the same. We're best friends,” Marie said. She could feel Xavier's eyes on the two of them, observing and judging them. So _this_ was the infamous Xavier. He was really attractive, however, with his high cheekbones and full lips. “We're here to help Thibaut.”

Xavier laughed. “Really now?”

“Yeah, I mean, someone has to, after you sucker-punched him,” Maria deadpanned before she could stop herself. When she realized what she'd said, Xavier was giving her a poisonous look. “I mean—”

“Don't mind Xavier, he doesn't like it when people are actually correct around him,” Sebastian said, walking into the dressing room. He took his shoes off and kicked them under his table. “He hates it when people make sense.”

Pedro rubbed his temples. “We’ve talked about this, Sebastian, Xavier.”

“We’re not fighting, don’t worry,” Xavier said, rolling his eyes. He looked at Maria, who now seemed a bit nervous. “We’re just being ourselves.” He stood up and took his shirt off, next his shoes, and then his jeans. “Maria, since you already know so much about me, would you help me get dressed? Opening’s in an hour.”

There was acid in Xavier’s seemingly sweet tone, and even though there were people in the room with her (Pedro left to take a call), Maria felt singled out, under the gaze of a skinny man who was only a few inches taller than she was.

God, this was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry for inaccuracies/mistakes/typos! 
> 
> (It's difficult to write about a dick when you don't have one tbh)
> 
> Comments give me life, so add yours :3


	4. Nice to Meet You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BAAAACK!!!!!!
> 
> Apologies for the super-late update-- classes have been crazy and there have been some personal matters I had to deal with, so sorry. BUT HERE IT IS, THE FOURTH CHAPTER! :D
> 
> Also, I'll be including song titles from now on. They'll be [enclosed], so you can listen to them and get a better feel of the scenes. UvU 
> 
> Disclaimer: The songs belong to the artists and producers. I do not own anything.
> 
> Enjoy!

Saturday was always a busy night for the Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club. Pedro was doing an overall check of the place, as was his routine every night before the club opened its doors for customers. “Everything good?” he asked Bertrand, who was behind the sound system area on a podium by the stage.

“Just fine,” Bertrand said, opening his laptop. All the dancers (filler and main ones) had given him the tracks they were going to perform to—all he had to do was check if the set was in order so there was no confusion. “Hey, did Seb tell you he was doing an improv performance tonight?”

“No, he didn’t tell me,” Pedro said, suddenly alarmed. Sebastian was always one for improvised performances, but tonight was a big night, and he’d wanted to impress Vinco. He went beside Bertrand and gave the set a look. “Which ones are his?”

“These,” Bertrand pointed. “For the improv, he told me to choose, quote-unquote, ‘the sexiest, darkest song you have’.”

“What are you going to play?”

“To be honest, that’s where I’m stumped. Seb’s ‘dark and sexy’ is pretty vague. What if he won’t like what I’m going to play?” Bertrand said, biting the edge of his lower lip in thought.

Pedro rubbed his face and groaned. “I’ll go talk to him.” He left the podium to check on his dancers in the dressing rooms, hoping that there were no new fights he had to deal with. He parted the curtains and poked his head in. “Is Sebastian in here?”

“He went out a minute ago,” Marie answered from behind a smiling Gaspard. She had offered to rub mousse into the man’s hair to keep the curls from going flat before the night ended, much to Xavier’s displeasure.

“Oh.” Pedro looked around the room and noticed that it was much neater than before. “Looks clean in here, that’s new,” he mused.

“Your girls got to work as soon as you left,” Gaspard said, leaning back in his chair and propping his legs up on his table, his glittery silver heels catching the light from the bulbs around his mirror. “I like them, they’re nice,” smiling at Marie’s reflection behind his own.

“Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself,” Marie smiled, twirling the ends of the man’s hair.

“Speak for yourself,” Xavier sneered. “This one doesn’t know how to follow instructions.” He braced himself against his own table as Maria pulled the laces of his corset. “Tighter, I said,” he snapped, whipping his head to cast the girl a mean look.

“ _It can’t go any tighter than this_ ,” Maria gritted out, resisting the urge to let go of the laces and pull on the man’s hair instead. Xavier was really attractive, to be honest, but he was a terribly big bitch. “And I don’t think it’s safe if you’re dancing out there, and what you’re wearing is too tight.”

“I want her replaced,” Xavier said to Pedro, prompting Maria to suddenly tug hard and slightly knock the air out of him. “ _Watch it, bitch_.”

“You told me to pull tighter!” Maria blinked, play-innocently. Beside her, Marie and Gaspard sniggered.

“Please don’t kill him yet, he’s performing tonight,” Pedro said, checking his phone.

“Yet?!”

“Shh,” Pedro shushed, putting the phone to his ear. As the other line rang, he could hear Xavier’s little complaints about his corset, and opted to turn away.

Finally, the other line picked up. “Yes, Pedro?”

“Vinco, the club’s opening in half an hour, where are you?”

“Oh, God, _yeah_ ,” Xavier moaned loudly after Maria finished pulling at the laces, hoping to spite or at least disturb his boss. “Fuck, that’s _so_ good.”

“Jesus Christ, Xavier!” Pedro exclaimed, covering his phone with one hand. “Sorry. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“That would be great, thanks man.”

“I’ll be there in ten, hold on.” Pedro turned to Xavier, who was adjusting the garter of his stockings. “I swear to God, Xavier.”

Xavier put bejeweled stilettos on and walked past Pedro while blowing him a kiss. “I’m getting myself a drink,” he winked, adding a taunting sway in his gait. Gaspard pushed his chair a bit back and craned his neck to watch Xavier walk away, giving a low whistle.

“I don’t know how you can handle him,” Pedro said to Gaspard.

“He’s got a good side, believe it or not.”

Pedro scoffed and shoved his phone into his back pocket. “I’m off to pick up the VIP. Won’t be long,” he said as he left the room. Before he reached the bar, he bumped into Sebastian. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why, what’s going on?”

“Bertrand told me you’re doing improv tonight.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Look, you don’t have to be worried—”

“Sebastian, listen to me,” Pedro said. “I know you’re great at dancing improv, and I trust you more than the other dancers, you know that. But tonight’s a big deal. The VIP’s a great friend of mine, and I really want to convince him that taking the Boss’s Pet spot was not a bad decision. Do you understand?”

Sebastian put a hand on his hip and looked at the floor, trying to avoid Pedro’s eyes. Well, shit, this certainly got better. The VIP was Pedro’s _friend_. “If you’re worried about me fucking it up, I promise I won’t,” he stated, this time looking at his boss. “I’m not going to ruin your rep, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Thank you,” Pedro sighed. “I’m picking him up right now. Please go tell Bertrand which song you want for the improv. He’s getting the set ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian said, walking over to the podium beside the stage.

“I’m off,” Pedro called as he passed by the bar, where Xavier and a few filler dancers were fixing themselves a few starter drinks. “You’re late,” he commented after meeting Irfane (who had just walked into the club) at the door.

“Sorry. Where are you going?” Irfane asked.

“I’m picking up the Boss’s Pet for tonight. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco was putting on his suit jacket when his phone rang. He took it and swiped the screen to take the call. “I’ll be downstairs in a few, hold on, Pedro.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming up. Which floor are you on again?” came Pedro’s voice. In the background, Vinco could hear his footfalls echoing off the walls of the stairwell.

“Second.”

Sure enough, there was a knocking on Vinco’s door after a bit of time. “Come in, it’s open,” he called. As his friend let himself into his apartment, Vinco tucked his wallet into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Pedro! Where are you, man, I need your help.”

“You have a lot of books for someone who ‘doesn’t read much’,” Pedro stated, making air-quotes as he leaned against Vinco’s bedroom doorjamb.

“A man’s got to keep himself busy between jobs. How do I look?”

“Not bad,” Pedro nodded. In all honesty, ‘not bad’ was an understatement—Vinco looked _good_. He’d always been the more attractive one in their little group, with his rugged charm and striking grey hair. And now, clothed in a tailored pearl grey suit with his white shirt, two buttons undone to show off the Necklace, Vinco looked unbelievably handsome. And expensive.

Vinco looked into the mirror again, trying to get flyaway wisps of his hair to behave. After a stretch of silence, he spoke. “I found him.”

“Hm?”

“I found the guy. The one in my dreams,” Vinco said, a smile playing on his lips. “I met him yesterday.”

Pedro sauntered into Vinco’s room to look around. “Good for you, man. Did you get his number?”

Vinco’s chipper mood deflated. “No.”

“Did you get his name?”

“No.”

“Smooth,” Pedro sniggered. “Maybe it just isn’t meant to be?” he suggested, going over to the man’s desk, cluttered with a pile of papers that seemed to be a script. He was curious, but he didn’t ask. “Look, maybe your mind’s just messing with you or something. You’ve been single for a long while. Maybe you just needed a distraction.” Truth be told, Pedro was a little glad that Vinco didn’t get a name out of the stranger he was chasing. He didn’t want to see his friend set himself up for a fall. Pedro, of all people, knew just how much hoping could hurt. He spotted a picture frame on the corner of the desk and picked it up. “No way. You still have this?”

“What— _oh_.” In Pedro’s hand was the old framed photo of the four of them: himself, Bertrand, Pedro, and Pedro’s ex, Mehdi. He’d forgotten when exactly they’d taken it, but he remembered what a beautiful day it was. Vinco felt guilt churn in his gut. Pedro wasn’t supposed to see that photo. “I meant to keep that. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Pedro said with a terse smile. He put the frame down gently, giving it a longing look. “I’m fine. Are you ready?” he asked, turning to see his friend, whose face was full of concern. “Club’s opening soon.”

Vinco nodded, feeling awkward.

“You’re going to love the show tonight, I promise. You have to meet Seb,” Pedro offered, switching his tone to a happier, lighter one. “He may not be your dream guy, but you are going to enjoy him.”

“Lead the way, man. Lead the way,” Vinco said with a smile. He had nothing to lose anyway.

 

♥♥♥

 

Irfane was preparing the bar for the evening when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and read the text message which was from Pedro, saying that he was on his way back to the club.

“Hi there,” Thibaut said sweetly, taking a seat on a barstool and leaning forward.

“Hey, baby,” Irfane greeted back, giving the man a peck on the lips. “Have you seen Seb? Pedro’s coming soon, and he’s the opening act. Could you go tell him to get ready?”

“Sure,” Thibaut said, hopping off the stool and heading for the dressing room.

“Places, everyone, the boss is coming!” Irfane yelled over the counter, catching the filler dancers’ attention. The dancers went into a frenzy, heels clicking quickly against the floor as they went to their ‘welcome spots’, to greet and usher in the clients for the night.

Thibaut went through the curtain. He gave Marie, who had three pairs of shoes in her arms, a smile when he walked past her. “Are you all ready? Pedro just texted Irfane that he’s on his way here with the VIP.”

“I’ll be right out, just a minute!” Sebastian said from behind his dressing screen.

“How are things with the dancers? Good?” Thibaut asked Maria, who seemed to be hard at work with something on Xavier’s face.

“All good,” Maria said. “Tilt your head up a bit, I need to put a bit more glue.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m putting these,” the girl stated, holding up a little plastic crystal, “around his eyes.”

“He wants his eyes to sparkle whenever he blinks,” Gaspard said.

“Hell yeah,” Xavier drew out, eyes closed. “The lights will bounce off of these babies, my beautiful brown eyes will catch attention, and wham bam, more clients for me.”

“That, or the fact that you’re in a corset and shorts that show off more than they cover,” Maria scoffed. She stepped back and crossed her arms. “That’s done, I guess.”

Xavier slowly opened his eyes, getting used to the odd feeling of things glued to his face. He looked into the mirror and tested the hold of the glue, squinting and frowning and moving his brows up and down. Once he was satisfied, he smiled proudly at his reflection. “Perfect.” He turned to Gaspard, who was relaxing in his seat and chatting with Marie. “Gaspard, how do I look?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” Gaspard chuckled.

“Yes, but I like hearing it. So, tell me,” Xavier said, shaking his hips.

“You look stunning,” Gaspard said, exaggerating his words. “You look so good it hurts.”

Xavier laughed, and turned to Thibaut. “So do I have to be onstage already?”

“About that…” Thibaut trailed. “Pedro switched the routine, so Seb’s the opening act tonight. You know, to cater to the VIP?” He watched as Xavier’s handsome smile turned cold. It was incredible how he could do that, how he could turn something so nice to look at so terrifying in a matter of seconds. “But you’re still going on tonight!” Thibaut reassured, feeling scared because the whole room had gone silent. Who knows what Xavier would do this time.

Xavier held his smile and blinked incredulously. He was speechless in his fury. Why would Pedro do that? Weekend opening acts were always his. It was pretty much a given that he would dance first. Not Seb. Just him. He had no idea how to react to Thibaut’s news. To add fuel to the flame, Sebastian emerged from behind his screen, all flawlessly-fair complexion and black sequins, with a waiting expression, expecting him to lash out. Behind his toothy grin, he ground his molars together, trying to compose himself. If he reacted as he did the last time, there was a big chance he’d get sacked. “I’m getting myself a drink,” he said finally, walking past Thibaut and Sebastian and heading for the curtained door.

“You’ve already had a pre-show drink, stop,” Gaspard called. Xavier only gave him the same smile he gave Thibaut earlier, so he held his tongue. Once Xavier wasn’t speaking anymore, he was _angry_. Tantrums only meant he was heavily irritated. Silence meant that he was really pissed. Gaspard sighed.

“Is he always like that?” Marie asked after an awkward silence. She had been re-arranging the shoes on the communal rack on the other side of the room, and the sudden quiet caught her attention.

“Loud and cranky is how he always is. When he starts shutting up, that’s when we should be worried,” Gaspard said, shaking his head. “Don’t mind him, Seb. Get onstage,” he continued, noting the other man’s slightly guilty expression.

Thibaut nodded and guided Sebastian through the other, smaller staircase that led to the stage.

“I’m going to my welcoming spot. Thanks for the help, girls,” Gaspard said before he left through the curtain. Once he was gone, Marie and Maria looked at each other, unsure of what to do or to say next. 

“Who knew so much could happen in such a short time,” Marie muttered, taking Gaspard’s seat. “It feels so weird being in their world. I feel like an outsider.”

Maria followed suit and sat in Xavier’s chair. “A job’s a job.” She started arranging the makeup on Xavier’s table. “Come on, let’s just tidy up. It’s pretty much all we can do for them, I guess.”

 

♥♥♥

 

When Pedro parked his car outside the building, Vinco could already see a line forming at the entrance. The Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club was a downstairs club situated under a hotel (which also had a penthouse club of its own, but Ed Banger was much better), where you had to go through a singular, unremarkable but bouncer-guarded door at the bottom of a staircase first. One would know that the door led to Ed Banger because of a triangular sticker with a cat-like face on it, much like the pendant on Pedro’s necklace. Behind the door, if Vinco’s memory was correct, was a hallway dimly lit with red lights. At the end of that hallway was the main entrance to the club itself.

“All right, it’s a turnout tonight!” Pedro grinned, shutting the engine off. He and Vinco got out of the car and walked to the staircase. Like the manager that he was, Pedro greeted the patrons in the line with a practiced smile and words of welcome as he passed them by. Vinco felt awkward next to him. “Don’t worry about it, he’s the Boss’s Pet tonight,” Pedro said to the bouncer in front of the door.

On instinct, Vinco hooked a finger around the necklace and presented it to the heavy-set man at the door, who shone a flashlight harshly at him. When the bouncer was satisfied, he and Pedro went through the door and into the red hallway. As they walked on, Vinco noticed two figures walking towards them. As they got closer, he noticed that they were wearing really tiny leather shorts, their lithe bodies exposed to him.

“Good evening, Sir,” Figure One crooned, taking Vinco’s right hand. In the red light he looked young, a bit too young for Vinco’s taste.

“We’re the welcoming committee,” Figure Two giggled. He took Vinco’s left hand.

“Vincent Belorgey, these are Honey and Sugar,” Pedro explained. “They’ll take you to your seat.”

“What, you’re not coming with me?” Vinco asked, being pulled away by the two.

“I’m going to talk to the patrons! Don’t worry—they won’t bite unless you ask them to,” Pedro called, heading back to the first entrance.

“So you’re the VIP tonight, huh?” Honey asked playfully, still tugging at Vinco’s arm. As they passed under a red light, Vinco could make out the guy’s features, but only barely. Honey had a girly face, with deep-set eyes and a slightly upturned nose. “You must be pretty rich.”

“How much did you bid for this week?” Sugar asked, hugging the arm he had. Sugar, on the other hand, had a more boyish look and a stronger jawline. Still, it bothered Vinco—these two, albeit terribly cute, looked really, _really_ young.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Vinco said. The two shrugged and continued guiding him forward until they were in front of an arch with double doors. Excitement and anxiety welled up in Vinco’s stomach when he heard muffled music behind the doors.

“Mr. Vincent Belorgey, we welcome you to the Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club,” Honey said, pushing one door open as Sugar pushed the other one.

Vinco let himself be ushered into the lavish, dark club, the pounding music washing over him. He felt the bass line of the song drumming its way into his chest—before he knew it, he was actually excited for the evening, unlike the first time he was there. There were attractive guys everywhere—perched on the couches and chairs, dancing in large, human-sized play-cages, standing by the bar… It all took his breath away, the sight of this many handsome men in heels and little outfits and the fact that they were at his beck and call for a whole week. He understood now why some men were willing to pay so much money for Pedro’s necklace.

Honey and Sugar took Vinco to a leather couch in front of the unlit stage. Vinco could see that there was a person poised at the pole in the middle, but he couldn’t see more than a silhouette and the faint sparkle of sequins. As he sat, Honey and Sugar settled on either of his sides, both a little too close for decency.

“Better watch this, Mr. Vincent,” Honey whispered into Vinco’s left ear.

“You’re really going to enjoy this,” Sugar whispered into his right. Soon the doors opened to let the other patrons and customers in, the clamor around them making more noise that filled Vinco with anticipation. The club was coming alive before his very eyes, and he was the master of it for a week.

“Gentlemen,” Pedro’s voice said, booming out of the speakers, “I welcome you to the Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club. Tonight’s a special night, we’ve got the Boss’s Pet with us. Thank you, sir, for your generosity,” he winked in Vinco’s direction. “Opening tonight’s show is a club favorite.”

Cheers rang out in the area. Vinco smiled in the dark, beside himself in excitement.

“Known as Ed Banger’s ‘Dark Prince’, welcome to the stage,” Pedro dropped his voice into a whisper as the song started to play, “Sebastian.”

[ _“Lurk” – The Neighborhood_ ]

A spotlight shone on Sebastian, who still had his back turned to the audience. His arms were raised above his head, hands on the pole behind him. His back was arched and his legs were crossed as the intro rolled in. He closed his eyes and exhaled before making his first move.

_I want to be honest, I want to be bad_

_I want to destroy you, I want to move fast_

_I want the attention, I want all the cash_

_I want all the ass, is it too much to ask?_

Sebastian slowly lowered himself into a squat until he settled on his knees. He made slow, sinuous movements, hands on his thighs, as if he was grinding on an invisible partner before he whipped around and ran gave the noisy audience a lusty gaze, a smile ghosting his mouth before he turned around again. He stood up and made his way back to the pole, walking languidly like a cat, relishing the attention he was getting. He couldn’t see the audience, the spotlight was so bright, and he was in the zone. Nothing could shake him right now.

_I want to be faithful, I want to be raw_

_I want to be ignorant, I want to know all_

_I want to die someday, I want to live long_

_I want what I ask for, I get what I want_

Vinco could only stare in rapt attention at what was onstage. His dream guy, his _literal_ dream guy, was the first performer. The man he had bumped into, just a day before, the man with the blue eyes and raven hair and grumpy personality at the laundry shop was a few feet away from him, a vision in nothing but sequined black shorts with a large bow at the back, fishnet stockings, and black glittery heels. Vinco felt an unraveling in himself.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Pedro said over the music as he plopped down on the couch beside Sugar. “Hello there, wonder twins, could you get me and the Pet a few drinks?” he asked sweetly to Honey and Sugar.

“Yes, Boss,” the two giggled in unison.

When they left, Pedro moved closer to his friend, who looked a bit shell-shocked. “I told you Seb was hot,” he gloated with a laugh.

“That’s Seb,” Vinco muttered, eyes glued to the dancer. “Sebastian…”

“You all right?”

Vinco turned to his friend. “Sebastian’s the guy in my dreams. He’s the one I met.”

Pedro laughed loudly. “You’ve got to be fucking joking,” he said. When his friend’s face told him he wasn’t messing with him, he laughed again. “Oh, _man_ , this is great. All the more reason to get a lapdance from him!”

Honey and Sugar came back with a tray full of shots which Vinco practically dove for, once the tray was set on the table in front of them. He paid the bitter taste no mind—he just really needed alcohol in his system right now. A lot of alcohol.

As Sebastian danced onstage, he only clearly noticed Pedro seated in the VIP booth with the Bidder, the handsome grey-haired stranger, and two filler dancers. For a split-second he faltered on his movements, but he quickly remembered what his boss told him earlier. He went back into his zone, circling and gliding up and down the pole as if it was child’s play. In the hot white light his eyes seemed to glow—he looked at no one in particular, no, he didn’t grant anyone that privilege, not even the ones who could afford it.

The patrons around the edge of the stage had started throwing tips, all over the floor were crumpled and folded bills. The place, despite the fact that the club just opened, already smelled of cash and booze and debauchery, and it gave him a sort of high. Sebastian worked for this, this kind of feeling, it fueled him to keep on dancing for Pedro and for Ed Banger. On stage, he was the most powerful man in the room, the owner of all these men’s attention, and he _loved_ it. He lifted himself off the stage floor with both hands on the pole and brought his legs up, as if walking up an invisible wall, before spreading them ever so slowly into a flawless split.

Howls and wolf whistles came from the crowd around him. Vinco felt his pants tightening. He downed one, two, three shots in quick succession so he could blame the sudden heat he felt on the booze, and not on the writhing figure onstage. All the liquor in the world couldn’t help him, his throat was so dry. The VIP seat gave him a perfect view of how Sebastian’s legs moved. He ached to touch them, to slip his fingers through the holes of his fishnet stockings to feel the fair flesh underneath.

“He’s impressive isn’t he?” Pedro smugly said.  “Vinco?”

“I have no words,” Vinco managed to say, eyes still fixed on Sebastian, who had now closed his legs and slid down the pole. “Why didn’t I notice him before?”

Pedro took a shot and knocked it back, grimacing as the tequila went down. “Possibly because Xavier was all over you the first time you came here.”

Vinco remembered the shorter man, the one with the big, brown eyes, who sat on his lap months ago. “Damn,” Vinco whispered. Xavier was handsome, very handsome in a gamine way, but right now, not even an angel could hold a candle to Sebastian.

Sebastian’s eyes fell on Vinco, who was looking at him as if he was a glass of water, and Vinco was a parched traveler. He was cute like that, totally stunned and under his spell. Sebastian opened his mouth and ran his tongue across his upper lip, just to see how the other man would react.

Vinco did not disappoint. He blinked frantically and licked his lips, shifting in his seat. _Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all of the saints_ , he thought, knocking back one more shot. He felt thirst in more ways than one. Beside him, Pedro laughed.

“Can you still handle it, man?” Pedro asked, leaning forward. When Vinco only gave him the finger, he laughed again and whistled to catch Sebastian’s attention. “The Pet wants to say hi!” he said to Seb, who had just dipped low and was now rolling his hips.

Sebastian settled on all fours and crawled towards the edge of the stage. Once he got close enough, he blew Pedro a kiss and looked at Vinco with as much desire as he could project. “Hi there,” he drawled with a smile.

Vinco opened his mouth but no words came out. This was not the man he bumped into yesterday. This Sebastian was different, _way_ different, and it threw him off. He took out his wallet, picked out a hundred, and stood to make his way to the stage.

Sebastian straightened himself and knelt with his thighs apart as Vinco approached. This man’s brow glistened with beads of sweat, and he walked a bit funny. _Good_ , Sebastian thought, smirking at the fact that he made him hard. He hooked his finger on the waistband of his shorts and pulled it gently away from his skin for Vinco to slip the bill in.

Vinco folded the bill lengthwise, and then crosswise. He gasped a little when his fingers brushed against the skin of Sebastian’s waist—it was so soft, he wanted to touch it again. He glanced up to look at the dancer’s face, only to see him smiling as if he had a secret.

“Thank you,” Sebastian mouthed, before he stood up and went back to the pole. The night was just beginning.

 

♥♥♥

 

“The club’s packed tonight,” Maria said, eyes scanning the area. She was at the bar with Marie and Irfane. All around were men, young, middle-aged, and old, either laughing or drinking with the dancers at their tables.

“That’s a good thing,” Irfane commented. “Even though it can get pretty hairy in here sometimes.”

“Look at that guy, the one with Pedro,” Marie said. “I know him.”

“The handsome one?” Maria asked, squinting to see better in the dark. Behind them, Irfane tiptoed to see through the droves of people.

“He was the reason I got fired at the laundry shop. He bumped into Sebastian, Sebastian got pissed, stormed out, I got sacked by Ella.” Marie chugged the last few inches of beer left in her bottle. “He didn’t strike us as a rich guy. Didn’t you say people had to bid for the VIP spot?”

“Yeah,” Irfane said, reaching below the counter to reach for a coaster. “Highest bidder wins.”

“How much was the highest?” Maria asked.

“Fifteen grand, more or less. I’m not sure.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Maria exclaimed. She looked at man in the VIP spot again. _Fifteen thousand euros for a free week at a club?_ She turned back to Irfane. “You don’t think that, you know, the dancers offer… _other_ services? Fifteen thousand’s pretty steep for a week of lapdances.”

Irfane laughed. “Believe it or not, some men are willing to pay even more than that. But Ed Banger doesn’t offer sex, as far as I know. Pedro’s really strict about that. He says that ‘Ed Banger sells talents and specialized company’. And if anyone was fooling around for extra cash on the side, Pedro would fire the person. It’s a club policy.”

Sebastian’s dance ended, eliciting cheers from the crowd. Marie put her bottle on the counter and thanked Irfane before she and Maria went back to the dressing rooms. As they squeezed through the crowd, Xavier took a seat at the bar.

“You’re looking fancy tonight, Xavier,” Irfane smiled, pushing a glass of vodka towards him.

“Don’t patronize me,” Xavier snapped, taking the glass and taking the vodka in three big gulps. He put the glass down and signaled the bartender to refill it.

“Woah, there,” Irfane said. “What’s wrong? I thought you were pretty stoked for tonight.”

“Yeah, until Pedro switched the lineup and put _that_ ,” Xavier nodded to the stage, “in the opening spot. What’s the deal anyway? Why does he get the opening act _and_ more solos?” He tapped the bar twice. “Hello? More Grey Goose?”

Irfane rolled his eyes and filled the glass up again. “Maybe the bidder put in a special request. Maybe he’s more partial to guys like Seb. Different strokes for different folks.”

“Huh,” Xavier said, taking a sip. That was a reasonable excuse, but more than four solos in one night was too much. Unless… “Or maybe he’s more partial _to_ Seb.”

“Meaning?”

“Don’t be dumb, Irfane, you’re too cute for that.” When the bartender still gave him a clueless look, he leaned forward. “Maybe he’s _really partial_ to Seb. Only to Seb.”

It slowly dawned on Irfane what Xavier was suggesting. “No. No!” he said, shaking his head.

“Think about it!” Xavier pressed, hopping off the barstool. “What if Sebastian’s his special ‘weekend investment’? That’s why he put in a special request?”

“That’s crazy. _You’re_ crazy. Give me that glass.”

Xavier smiled deviously and held the glass to his chest. “I’m keeping this. And I’m right. Sebastian could be this big-shot bidder’s sugar baby.” He turned around and disappeared in the droves of men. _I just need more proof. This’ll show Pedro that he never should have hired Sebastian in the first place_.

Irfane shook his head. Once the wheels in Xavier’s pretty little head started turning, nothing could stop him from trying to prove his point right. He huffed and went back to serving drinks.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Pedro’s looking for Sebastian?” Thibaut said, stepping into the dressing room.

Maria was putting Xavier’s spare shoes into a vacant niche in the rack. “Hey, Thibaut. Wow, you look tired.”

“The filler dancers had some trouble with their shoes so I had to run out to get some superglue,” the man said, pulling a plastic chair from a corner and sitting down. It was a humid night outside when he ran to buy the glue—add that to the heat inside the club, and the fact that his hair reached his shoulders. He pulled all of his hair to one side and just held it, to cool his neck.

“Why’s he looking for me? My next solo’s in an hour,” Sebastian stated, dabbing a folded tissue paper on his cheeks and in the hollow of his neck.

“The Boss’s Pet requested a private lap dance.”

Marie, who was arranging Gaspard’s costumes on a clothesrack, smirked to herself. Something was going on. She could feel it. She gave Maria a knowing smile over her shoulder. Maria, in turn, winked, signaling her that they thought the same thing.

Sebastian felt a blush creep up to his chest. He turned to his mirror so Thibaut wouldn’t see it, and disguised his uneasiness with a forced cough. His mind didn’t process it earlier because he was onstage and he was in the zone, but the bidder—who was also his boss’s friend—was the man he bumped into just yesterday. He thought he’d bailed on the free week, but apparently not. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, Sebastian was kind of happy to see him at the club. In a weird, totally-not-personal way. Sure, he was handsome. And polite. And obviously really rich. But he was still, above all, a client, and rules were rules. “Does he want it right now?”

“I guess so,” Thibaut replied.

Sebastian gave himself one more check in the mirror before heading out. All the bravado he had at the beginning of the evening seemed to vanish in the air like the smoke from clients’ cigarettes. He couldn’t let that happen. _A job’s a job, Seb. Get your head in the game._ “All right, then.” As he walked, he tousled his short, black hair. “Let’s see if he can handle it.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco sat anxiously in a little room. This was the first time he was going to get a lapdance in Pedro’s club, so it was also his first time in one of the curtain-covered sections of the place. His heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings in his chest—what if Sebastian didn’t want to dance for him? He’d heard of cases like that, when the dancer refused to do a lapdance for a customer for some reason.

“You look like you need a doctor,” a voice said, interrupting his thoughts. He snapped to attention when he saw Sebastian in front of him, hands on his hips. He was wearing the same clothes from when he performed onstage. In the small space of the room, his voice seemed to echo. It sounded better than it did in Vinco’s head. “Are you okay?”

Vinco cleared his throat. “I’m fine. You’re Sebastian, right?”

“I’m whoever you want me to be.”

Vinco was taken aback by Sebastian’s nonplussed response. “Yes, I know, but you _are_ him, right? Don’t you remember—”

Sebastian clamped a hand on Vinco’s mouth. He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t. I’ll lose my job.”

Vinco breathed in, getting a whiff of Sebastian’s hand—his soft skin smelled of alcohol and smoke, with a hint of oranges. It was a lovely contradiction. Vinco wanted the smell imprinted into his brain. His lips kissed at Sebastian’s palm.

Sebastian let go and stepped back. “I remember.” He turned the sound system in the room on, pressing the forward button until he found a song he liked. Stepping forward, he looked down at Vinco as he stood with his legs apart. He lowered himself onto the man’s lap slowly, eyes locking with him.

[“ _Fuck You All the Time (Schlomo remix)_ ” – Jeremih]

“I remember you,” Sebastian whispered, grinding on Vinco’s crotch. Their faces were so close to each other, his hands were on the smooth lapels of his jacket, and this was certainly not something Sebastian did with any of his customers, not even the most loyal ones, but this man’s eyes had fire in them and he wanted more of it.

Vinco was sure Sebastian could feel his erection through his pants. He dared to put his hands on Sebastian’s hips, only to get them slapped away.

“Look, don’t touch,” Sebastian whispered. “We can talk like this, if you really want to talk. There are cameras, and Pedro will know.”

Nothing could be more erotic. “But there’s music,” Vinco whispered back.

“Then read my lips,” Sebastian said. “What’s your name?”

“Vincent. Vinco. Call me Vinco,” Vinco breathed. This man was too much.

“Nice to meet you, Vinco,” Sebastian smiled. He transferred his hands behind him, on Vinco’s knees, and rolled his hips. “Welcome to Ed Banger.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I live for your comments, so leave some, if you'd like. :D


	5. Deep and Deeper Circumstances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE!!!11! We're moving to a new house, so things have been crazy. That, plus midterms at uni. 
> 
> Things get a little heavier and a bit sexier in this chapter... Enjoy :D

The early morning air was cold against Sebastian’s cardigan-covered frame—he’d popped out for a smoke before changing out of his costume, and he neglected to wear his coat. Still, he desperately needed a cigarette, so he unrolled the cardigan’s sleeves and started to smoke. He never liked smoking inside the club, it made his breath smell terrible, and no customer wanted that. The first drag he took felt like a blessing, and he exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl upwards. He thought about going back into the club after a few silent minutes, since there was a big chance that he would catch a cold if he hung out in shorts and fishnets, with nothing but a flimsy cardigan to keep him warm. He was about to inhale again when the main door slammed shut, the sudden bang startling him and making him drop his cigarette.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Vinco said, realizing what he’d done. “I’ll just come back later.” He made to go down the stairs and walk into the club again when Sebastian spoke, stopping him.

“No, it’s fine, I was going in anyways.”

Vinco nodded and continued up the staircase. He walked over to the wall Sebastian was leaning on and stood a few feet away. He took out a pack of cigarettes and inwardly debated whether or not he should offer it to the other man, since he did make him drop his first smoke. He gave Sebastian an asking look, pointing the pack at him.

“No, thanks,” Sebastian smiled. He knew he should go back inside and change, that he should not spend any more time with this man. It was a gamble, and the other dancers might start rumors. But there was something rooting him in his spot. He exhaled loudly and rubbed his arm. Jesus, this was frustrating.

“Are you cold?” Vinco asked, sending out a puff of smoke.

“Yes. I mean, no. I’m fine, don’t worry,” Sebastian answered.

“No, it’s all right. Here,” Vinco said, taking his jacket off. “Use this.” He started to close the distance between them.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Sebastian said abruptly, shocking Vinco. “I just… If you insist, you can just, you know, throw it to me.”

“Throw it?”

“Yes, just throw it. Stay where you are and throw it to me.” Sebastian’s legs were cold, but he could feel his face heating up. “I’ll catch it, I promise.”

Vinco couldn’t hide his smile. Sebastian had just given him the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look, the one he so adored. It was awkward, but it was what he’d been looking for all night. The highly-eroticized version of Sebastian was great, but this version was much better. He tossed the man his jacket.

Sebastian tried his best to catch the thing, but failed a bit, awkwardly catching only a sleeve as the rest of the jacket slipped through his fingers. He composed himself and put it over his shoulders. The inner lining was still warm from Vinco’s body, and he could still smell the faint, heady notes of men’s perfume on the silk. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, fingering the edge of the jacket. “I forgot to ask: are you feeling better now?”

It was Vinco’s turn to blush. Earlier, when Sebastian was giving him what seemed to be a fourth lapdance, he passed out. He woke up in what looked like Pedro’s office, with his friend and a concerned Sebastian looking over him. He threw the cigarette and rubbed his face. “Oh, man. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’ve never seen Pedro that worried,” Sebastian chuckled. “What happened to you, anyway? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Maybe it was the heat, plus the drinks,” Vinco said, ruffling his hair. “Plus—” He caught himself. He couldn’t tell Sebastian he was kind of the main reason he passed out, that would make him look weird.

“Yeah?”

“Plus the fact that I have really bad asthma,” Vinco blurted, making the other man laugh.

“Asthma? And yet you smoke?”

“What can I say, I like living dangerously.”

Sebastian laughed once more, and soon Vinco was laughing with him. They really were not sure why, but in that moment it felt right for the two of them to be laughing at nothing. After the laughing was reduced to giggles, Sebastian looked at Vinco, who was smiling warmly at him.

 _This man is dangerous_ , he thought, feeling his smile slowly disappearing. As he gazed at the bidder, he felt a tiny pinprick of panic in his chest. No. This was bad. He shouldn’t be laughing with this man, he shouldn’t be wearing his jacket. He couldn’t. He would lose his job. “I need to go back inside,” he said, whipping the jacket off his shoulders. He welcomed the cold air and hoped it would knock some sense into him. “Thank you, again. Sir.” Before going back into the club, he handed Vinco the jacket.

“You’re welcome,” Vinco muttered, taking the jacket. “Sebastian?”

The man looked back at him strangely.

“Don’t call me ‘sir’. Call me by my name, all right?”

Sebastian could hear disappointment in the other man’s voice. Good. Now both of them understood the situation they were in. “I don’t know if I can promise that.” And then he shut the door behind him, leaving Vinco out in the cold.

 

♥♥♥

 

Uffie was putting final touches on her clay model in her room when she heard the front door open and close. “Hey, welcome home,” she greeted loudly, taking off her glasses and standing up from her cluttered desk to meet Sebastian in the living room. “You’re early. Did Pedro drive you home?”

Sebastian didn’t greet the girl back. Instead, he threw his keys onto the table with a grunt and collapsed onto the couch.

“Something tells me last night wasn’t a good night,” Uffie said warily, going to him. She sat on the couch and playfully pat Sebastian’s butt. Usually that would elicit a similarly playful response from him, or at least a smile, but this time he just groaned into the cushions. “Hey. Sebos, what’s wrong? Was it a bad night?”

“No. It was fantastic,” Sebastian said, turning his face to one side so the girl could hear him.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

Sebastian groaned again. “I don’t know.”

“What happened? Was it Xavier?”

“It would’ve been better if it was just Xavier.” He sat up. “You know Pedro’s thing? ‘The Boss’s Pet’ gig? The bidder that won came to the club tonight.” As he frowned at empty space, the bidder’s face reappeared in his mind. Vincent’s face. Shit, he was remembering his name now.

“Is he gross?”

“No.” Sebastian leaned his head on Uffie’s shoulder. “He’s actually really nice. And he’s handsome. And funny. And rich.” Her soft yellow shirt smelled of clay and lavender-scented lotion. It was comforting, and it made him realize how tired he actually was.

Uffie smiled. “Sebos, I think you have a crush on this big-shot bidder.”

“Please don’t.”

“Haven’t you had a crush before?”

“Are you being sarcastic?” Sebastian repeated, making a face at her. “I just don’t want to like him. I can’t like him.”

“Come on! It’s just a crush,” Uffie exclaimed.

“Pedro has this zero-tolerance policy about his performers fraternizing with clients outside the club,” Sebastian stated. “I’ll lose my job. He’s a dangerous distraction.”

“Again, it _is_ just a crush! You’re not getting married or anything.”

“But it’s distracting!” he whined, lying back down. Truth be told, he understood that he was kind of exaggerating the situation—he simply couldn’t deal with these feelings right now. Crushes made him feel vulnerable and helpless, and once he got caught in the loop of warm, fuzzy feelings, he knew getting out of it would require a certain amount of pain. Vincent was a liability, and he could not get into more trouble with Pedro right now.

Uffie stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You’re acting like a child. When was the last time you had a crush?” When the man shrugged, she spoke again. “See? Enjoy it! Crushes make you feel young again. It’s fun.”

“Then why do I feel like shit?”

“Because you think you don’t deserve to feel giddy and fuzzy again. Change that,” Uffie said, ruffling Sebastian’s hair. “Besides, if you really think having a crush on one of your customers is hell, then the only way out is through. Wait until your crush fades, I guess.”

“What do you suppose I should do, then?”

“Get to know him better. Eventually, you’ll find something about him that turns you off,” the girl said. She let go of his hair and shrugged. “There’s a chance it might backfire, like, the more you learn about him, the more you end up actually liking him. But it’s worth a shot!”

Sebastian squinted at the girl. “I will piss on whatever you’re working on.”

“You have to agree that I make sense,” Uffie answered, giving him a smug smile.

Sebastian stood up. “I hate you.” He kissed the girl’s forehead, feeling her thin, blonde bangs under his lips. “I’m going to bed. Have fun in class later.”

Uffie leaned into the affectionate gesture. “Good night, Sebos. Sweet dreams.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Xavier was silent the whole time he and Gaspard walked to their apartment. It bothered Gaspard. Xavier, after each night, would always talk to him about the different customers he’d spoken to and performed for when they would walk home. He would get really animated, imitating the voices of the men he was making fun of, complete with the funny faces and hand gestures. But now he was quiet. He didn’t even hold on to Gaspard’s arm; he just stuck his hands into his jacket pockets, face half-covered by his scarf.

Gaspard nudged his shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re silent.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s weird. You’re never silent after work. What’s wrong?”

Xavier looked down. “I just don’t want to talk, that’s all. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Bullshit.” Gaspard stopped walking and grabbed Xavier’s arm. “You know I hate it when you do that. Let’s fucking address this. What’s wrong with you? Is this still about Sebastian?”

Hearing Sebastian’s name was like a slap to Xavier’s face. He scowled and shook free of Gaspard’s hold. “So what if it is?” he loudly said.

“It was just the opening act, why are you so affected?”

Xavier kept his mouth shut. He just glared at Gaspard, who seemed as mad as he was.

“Well?” Gaspard prompted. “Xavier, answer me.”

“Because I wanted to do the opening act! Are you happy now?” Xavier shouted. “I wanted to do the opening act, it’s always my thing, _I_ always open on weekends! That motherfucker took it away from me because that bidder’s his sugar daddy!”

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Gaspard countered. “It’s just one opening act! Just this once! Why are you letting that affect you this much?”

“Because I’m fucking jealous of Sebastian, that’s why!”

Gaspard was struck dumb. Those were the words he never imagined Xavier saying.

“I said it. I’m jealous because everyone thinks Sebastian’s perfect. Pedro loves him, the filler dancers love him, everyone does. Everything he does is fucking flawless, and I hate it.” Xavier’s voice started to break. “He doesn’t even have to try because everything he does is effortlessly perfect. He’s smart, and he always looks good, and the patrons love him, and even my own goddamned boyfriend sticks up for him, it makes me sick,” he said, gesturing at Gaspard. “It makes me sick that I’m young and dumb, and that Pedro doesn’t like me as much as him, and I hate myself every day I see him!” Tears were rolling down his cheek by now.

Gaspard made to hug Xavier. He could see the pain in his boyfriend’s eyes after admitting he was jealous. He didn’t understand it, but he wanted to make it go away. Xavier never cried in front of him, so it was disconcerting to see. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding the smaller man tight. He has no idea what else to say.

“I just want to be perfect like him, but I know I’m never going to be,” Xavier said into Gaspard’s chest. “I want to be liked. I want to be good enough for other people.”

“I like you,” Gaspard said, kissing the top of Xavier’s head. “I love you.”

“You’re just saying that because we’re together.”

“No, I love you because to me you are perfect. You _are_ good enough. People have different versions of perfect. Maybe Sebastian fits those versions more than you do, and that’s okay. You’re my version of perfect. You’re my perfection. I love you.”

Xavier let himself cry into Gaspard’s jacket, tears wetting the thick cotton. His hands gripped at the man’s back, pulling himself closer. They stayed like that for what felt like a comfortable eternity, in the cold morning air on a sidewalk.

 

♥♥♥

 

The sun was rising. Pedro could not sleep. It had been two hours since he got home, and he’d been tossing and turning for quite some time now. He needed to sleep because he knew he was going to be cranky once he showed up for work, and he did not want to put his performers through his shitty mood swings again. He bit his lip and stared up at the ceiling.

Seeing Mehdi’s smile after a long time was like a punch to his gut. He never thought he’d react this way to seeing it. He sat up and grabbed his phone off the bedside drawer. _Are you awake?_ , he texted.

In less than a minute, a reply came. _It’s 5 in the morning. What’s wrong?_

He loved this about Louis. He could always tell when Pedro wasn’t feeling okay. _Can’t sleep_.

His phone started to ring. “Louis, I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind. Are you okay?” came the other man’s voice, sleep still edging its corners.

Should he tell Louis what was bothering him? Pedro kept silent.

“Pedro? Babe?”

“I’m not okay.”

It took only those three words to make Louis get out of bed, and run to Pedro’s apartment, which was half a block away from his own. He had deep feelings for the other man, he didn’t know if it was love or not, but he knew Pedro would not be completely his. Not when he was still in grief. But it was okay. Louis decided he would wait.

He jogged up the stairs and knocked on Pedro’s door, catching his breath. In his rush, he’d forgotten his spare key. “Pedro,” he breathed, when the man opened the door.

“I just…” Pedro trailed, at a loss for words. Louis didn’t really have to come over. Now he was guilty. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Louis stepped into his apartment and enveloped Pedro in a hug. “Shh. It’s okay. What do you need?”

“You. I need you.”

With that, Louis gave Pedro a questioning look, as if to ask if he was sure of what he was asking. “Now might not be a good time. We can talk if you want to. Talk to me.”

“Please, Louis. I just need you right now. Please.”

Louis couldn’t say no to the sadness in the man’s voice. He closed the door behind him and kissed Pedro slowly.

Pedro, however, was not having it. He bit Louis’s lower lip and pegged him with a stare. “I don’t need you to be gentle with me right now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Louis whispered, his thumb caressing Pedro’s cheek.

“You’re not going to hurt me.” _Right now, nothing can hurt me more than my memories._

Louis let go of his hesitation and kissed Pedro once more, rougher than the first one. As they made their way to Pedro’s room, they took their clothes off, nearly tumbling over themselves as they got to the bed.

The two had sex as the sun rose, the sound of birds chirping outside mingling with moans and gasps of pleasure. Pedro did not consider it making love—he didn’t love Louis, no matter how much he deserved it, and it made him guilty. Right now, he just wanted Louis to fuck him hard, hard enough to drill Mehdi’s memory out of him, even for a bit. As the city started coming alive outside Pedro’s walls, the two men were coming undone in each others’ arms.

“Pedro, _oh fuck_ , Pedro,” Louis gasped, thrusting hard up into Pedro, who straddled him. “You’re so beautiful like that, _fuck_.”

“Fuck me, Louis,” Pedro said, feeling his orgasm build up inside him. “Fuck me like you’ve never fucked me before, fuck me numb.”

God knows how much Pedro needed to be numb. He needed to be numb to sleep.

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco woke up in the late afternoon with a smile on his face. Last night was one of the best nights of his life—never mind the fact that he passed out in the middle of a lapdance. He remembered how Sebastian laughed with him about the asthma joke. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed, and his shoulders kind of hunched forward as they shook in glee. Vinco felt himself blush as he smiled at the memory. He rolled around on his bed, laughing at himself. He felt silly, rolling around like that, but he couldn’t help it. He was a grown man with a crush on a stripper, who was also the man in his dreams. From an outsider’s point of view, it was a silly situation.

But he remembered how that particular conversation with Sebastian ended, and his mood deflated. He lay at the edge of his bed, head and arm dangling off the edge. Things were going so well—what changed Sebastian’s attitude towards him? What if… “Holy shit, he can’t have a boyfriend already,” Vinco said aloud, sitting up. He reached for his phone and called Pedro.

“What is it, Vinco?” Pedro groaned, clearly roused from sleep.

“Is Sebastian single?”

Pedro made a face. “What the fuck, man?”

“I need to know!”

“Babe, who is it?” said another voice away from Pedro’s phone.

Vinco raised his eyebrows. _Babe?_ “Pedro, who’s there?”

“It’s Louis. You remember Louis, right? Say hi, Louis,” Pedro said, putting the phone closer to the other man’s mouth. After Louis greeted Vinco, Pedro put the phone back against his ear. “Whatever you’re thinking of right now, stop it.”

 _Oh_. Louis was a friend of Pedro’s. Apparently, now, Louis was more than just a friend. He was now ‘babe’ status. “Well, this is a development. Does Bertrand know about this?”

“I kind of forgot to tell you guys. Sorry.”

“You know what it means when you ‘forget’ to tell your friends about a new somebody, right?”

“Let’s go back to your first question, shall we?” Pedro felt Louis’s arm snake around his waist, pulling him close. The man nuzzled his neck, slowly drifting back to sleep. “Why do you need to know?”

“This man has been appearing in my dreams, and he happens to be a total knockout in real life,” Vinco said. “I want to know if I have a chance with him, you know?”

“Vinco, you know how I feel about my performers forming non-business relations with my clients,” Pedro said. “Yes, he _is_ single, but that’s not going to get you anywhere with him. I’m sorry. It’s a business policy.”

“So I _do_ have a chance with him?”

“Did you not hear what I just said? You can’t date Seb as long as he works for me. I’m sorry.”

Vinco rolled onto his stomach. “Just one date! Come on, I thought we were friends!”

“Even if I did allow one date— _one date_ —I doubt he’d even say yes.”

“So are you allowing me to ask him out?”

“Kindly fuck off, Vinco,” Pedro said sarcastically before dropping the call.

Vinco sighed. Pedro was right. Even if he could date Sebastian, it would cost him the man’s job, not to mention his own friendship. When Pedro says something, he’d always mean it. “Fuck it,” he muttered, getting off the bed. He went to his desk and fished out a script from under the pile of papers. Hopefully today wasn’t going to be a complete bust. If he couldn’t get a date, he could at least nail this audition. He sat down on the corner of his bed and began to read some lines aloud.

 

♥♥♥

 

Marie woke up to her phone ringing. “What is it?” she groaned, not even thinking about who was on the other line.

“Oh, I’m sorry for waking you,” Thibaut said. “I just wanted to ask you what time you were coming today.”

“Hold on.” The girl took the phone away from her ear to check the time. It was nearly four in the afternoon. “Shit. Am I late?”

“No, you’re not, don’t worry. Sebastian’s roommate’s here at the club, and she brought food. Should I save you some?”

Marie sat up and yawned. She was going to have to get used to this type of work schedule from now on. “If it’s anything sweet, save me some. I’ll be there in thirty minutes, I guess. Is Maria with you?” she asked, noticing how quiet the place was.

“She’s here, and she told me to tell you that the keys are behind the pig,” Thibaut said. “I don’t understand, but that’s what she said.”

She giggled as she walked to the living room. On the bookshelf was a glass coinbank in the shape of a pig. It was a prize Marie won at a fair when she was still in college—it was a tacky little thing, painted with garish green and pink. She never put money in it, but it found its purpose as a hiding place for keys. “Tell her I have the keys. Bye.”

Walking to the club took more time than she expected. _How the fuck do Thibaut and his boyfriend walk home every morning?_ she thought, catching her breath at a corner. Up ahead was the hotel—the club was literally just around its corner. When she got inside, she spotted Maria, Thibaut, and the others by the bar, laughing. Sebastian was there, and by his side was a petite blonde with big brown eyes. She looked like an urban woodland fairy, to be honest, with her small, delicate face.

“Ah, there she is!” Maria exclaimed, spotting her roommate. “Uffie, this is Marie, my roomie. She works backstage with Thibaut and I.”

Uffie grabbed Marie’s hand excitedly. “I _love_ your hair, the color is to die for!”

“Her real name’s Anna, but she likes being called ‘Uffie’. She’s a visual arts student from a nearby art university,” Sebastian stated. “She gets excited about colors.”

“But it really _is_ a pretty shade of purple!”

“Thank you,” Marie smiled.

“I came to watch Sebos dance again. Apparently the VIP for this week’s cute,” Uffie teased, nudging Sebastian, who scrunched his nose up in disagreement.

“No, he’s not. He has weird, grey hair. He looks old.” From the corner of his eye, Uffie was making an ‘Oh, really?’ face. Sebastian knew lying around his roommate was futile, but he had to save face in front of Thibaut and the girls.

“Really? I think it’s kind of hot,” Irfane said with a smile.

“And I think he likes you, Sebastian,” Thibaut added, making the others start teasing the man in question, who was now turning into a lovely shade of red. “Remember—he passed out last night after how many lap dances from him?”

“Oh, my God, he didn’t!” Uffie said.

“He did, it was the fourth one!” Maria hooted.

“I have shoes backstage that need arranging, you gossip mongers,” Sebastian said. “Get going.” After Thibaut and the girls left laughing, he sighed and leaned on the bar. “Stop smiling at me like that, or I’m telling Thibaut you’re flirting with me.”

Irfane shrugged his shoulders, his smile still plastered on his face. “Amazing.”

“What is?”

“The Snow White of Ed Banger is blushing over the VIP. It’s not everyday I see the great Sebastian flustered.”

“You should’ve seen him this morning,” Uffie giggled.

“Whose side are you on again?” Sebastian asked.

Uffie hugged Sebastian from the side. “Come on, darling, we’re just teasing! Irfane’s right, though—it’s nice to see you get all blushy and vulnerable.”

Sebastian huffed. “Yeah? You should go through it, it feels _fantastic_.” He started walking towards the stage. “I have to change. You fuckers better not talk about me once I’m backstage!”

“Don’t count on it,” Uffie joked, blowing him a kiss. Once he was gone, she turned to Irfane. “Is the VIP really hot? I have never seen Sebos act like this. Ever.”

Irfane put his hands on his hips and looked around thoughtfully. “Objectively, yes. He looked pretty good last night. Dressed nice. Looked expensive, too. He did have grey hair, but he doesn’t look old. It’s striking.”

“Would you fuck him, though? Like, honestly?”

“If my boyfriend allowed me to, of course I would. VIP’s a looker. He’ll get here when Pedro comes later.”

“Doesn’t he have a car?”

“Don’t know. Last night, Pedro picked him up.” He finished wiping up the counter—the cookies Uffie brought made a lot of crumbs, and he didn’t want the bar to be messy for the evening.

“Isn’t it weird that the guy’s really rich but Pedro has to pick him up?” Uffie questioned. “I don’t know, like, don’t rich men have chauffeurs or something?”

Irafne laughed. “You are one curious egg, Uffie. Maybe he wants to save on gas or something?” He tapped the tip of the girl’s nose. “Look, club’s opening in a bit. Go on backstage or something. Pedro won’t be here until tonight.”

“All right, Mr. Bartender,” Uffie smiled. As she made her way backstage, she wondered about the client that bugged her roommate. She’d never seen Sebastian so bothered by a guy—this was new because Sebastian’s job meant dealing with a number of different men on a daily basis. Not a lot of things (or a lot of men) could bother him. So what made the VIP so different?

She couldn’t wait for tonight’s show.

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. It was already nine in the evening, and Pedro still hadn’t called or texted him—he was hoping to hitch another ride. He dialed Pedro’s number and waited for the man to answer.

Nothing. Just a ringing on the other end of the line, and then Pedro’s voicemail recording telling him to leave a message after the beep. He tried again. “Pick up your phone, man…” When he was sent to voicemail again, he groaned. Where was he?

Vinco ended up hailing a cab and then stopping around a corner near the club. He was an actor, and this week, his character was someone filthy-rich enough to blow more than fifteen grand on a free pass at a high-end strip club. He couldn’t be seen by any of the patrons nor the dancers coming out of a cab. He ran a hand through his hair and started walking toward the club, adding a little more swagger in his step. The closer he got to the line of patrons the more he sped up his walk. He was going to see Sebastian again. He bypassed the line and went straight to the door, showing the bouncer his necklace. Stepping through the red hall, he was greeted by a waiting Honey. “It’s you again,” he smiled, offering his arm for the young man to hold. Honey’s trim frame was clad in only a crop top and a tiny sequined skirt.

“Sugar couldn’t be here because he’s at a customer’s table. I have you all to myself,” Honey giggled. “You’re pretty late tonight, Mr. Vincent.”

“Your boss stood me up. I thought he was going to meet me earlier,” Vinco remarked. “Is he inside?”

“Nope, not yet. He’s also running a bit late tonight.”

 _Huh, that’s weird_. “Well, lead the way, Honey. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“What’s your real name?”

Honey’s expression softened.

Vinco stopped walking. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

The younger man’s hold on Vinco’s arm tightened. “You know, only Pedro’s asked me that question before. You’re the first customer to ask me.” He smiled up at Vinco. “Outside Ed Banger, people call me Hugo.”

“Aren’t you a little too young to be working here, Hugo?” Vinco asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m legal,” Honey smiled. “Let’s walk a little slower.” He looked up at the man again. “You know what, Mr. Vincent? I like you. You’re sweet. The person you like is very lucky.”

As they walked the remainder of the red hall, Vinco sighed. “I only hope he likes me, too.”

 

[ _“Partition” – Beyoncé_ ]

 

Once they got into the club, a thin, lithe brunette was onstage working the poles. “Sebastian isn’t opening tonight?”

“He opened earlier. That’s Xavier,” Honey said, leading Vinco to the VIP area. After sitting the man down, he put his hands on his hips. “Drinks?”

“Grey Goose, please. Honey,” he said, before the guy could leave, “could you call Sebastian over for me?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” Honey said. As he turned around, his skirt swayed and gave Vinco a glimpse of what was underneath. The man could only raise his eyebrows in shock and then approval. Little Honey had the tightest ass he’d ever seen on a young man.

Not that he’d seen a lot of young guy’s asses.

Well, he _was_ a young man once, and he’d been part of the school’s lacrosse team, so it was unavoidable _not_ to see other guy’s butts in the locker room or in the showers. And he’d been in relationships with other guys before too, just not _that_ young, but—

“You called for me?”

Vinco snapped out of his train of thought and saw Sebastian, skin aglow under the zipping laser lights and multicolored strobes of the club. He wore an extremely short blue (or white, he couldn’t tell in the dim light) skirt, topped with a little apron. The traps of the apron served as his only top, probably pastied to Sebastian’s nipples. His long legs were in white, thigh-high fishnets, held up by garters. Vinco had no idea where to look.

“Please don’t tell me you’re passing out on me again,” Sebastian said, putting a hand on his hip.

Vinco swallowed. Where the fuck was Honey with his drink? “I hope not. Keep me company?”

Sebastian walked around the table and made to sit on the man’s lap. “Do you want me in your lap, Sir?” he asked, emphasizing the coquettish formality. Despite the unfortunate, ill-timed crush he had, he still had a job to do.

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“It’s my job, of course I’m okay with it. Do you want me in your lap or not?” Yeah, this was going to be difficult for the two of them. Sebastian caught himself. “I’m sorry, let me rephrase that.”

“No, it was a stupid question. My bad.” Vinco spread his legs to make way for Sebastian’s. “’Cute’ doesn’t suit you,” he continued, patting his lap.

“What are you saying, I’m fucking adorable,” Sebastian said, taking his seat. “Sorry for being so snippy.” He put his arm around Vinco’s shoulder and leaned on his chest, his hand playing with the man’s hair. _Soft_ , he thought.

“I’m guessing it’s been a rough night?” Vinco asked. His arm circled Sebastian’s lower back, hand meaning to settle on his hip. “May I?”

“Go ahead and touch me,” Sebastian said. When the other man settled his hand just a bit below where the waistband of his skirt started, he felt a little disappointed. He’d wanted to feel Vincent’s hands on him, as much as he hated to admit. “I didn’t see you earlier, that’s all. Missed you a bit.” _Half-lie, half truth._

“Really now?” _I missed you too._

“Mm-hmm.” _Leaning more towards the truth._ “I missed you, Mister Vincent.” _I am so fucked._

“Hey, VIP,” someone called. It was Xavier, sparkling in a glittery, red, Lolita-esque getup on his hands and knees at the edge of the stage. He gave Vinco a come-hither look. “If Sebby gets too heavy on your lap…” He got on his side and stretched his leg upwards until his calf grazed his messy hair. “I’m travel-sized for your convenience.” With a wink and a wiggle of his pert ass he went back to the pole. The whole time he danced, he kept his eyes on Vinco, giving him a flirty smile now and then.

Vinco, in turn, was stunned by the little dancer’s candor (not to mention his flexibility). He smiled back.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was not pleased. After Xavier made a little show of what he could do (which he could also _totally_ do), he needed to up the ante. He inched closer to Vinco and let his lips ghost the man’s ear.

Vinco let out a shaky exhale. Now was not a good time to get hard. Not with Sebastian in his lap.

“Would you rather have Xavier in your lap?” Sebastian whispered. When Vinco didn’t answer, he whispered again, lips moving against the sensitive skin of his ear. “Do you want him more, Vincent?”

“No,” Vinco said, turning his head to face Sebastian. “Say my name again.”

“Vincent,” Sebastian whispered again, breath mingling with Vinco’s. Their faces were so close that he could gently blow some air on the man’s face and watch his eyelashes flutter. This was getting dangerous.

 

♥♥♥

 

“You didn’t have to drive me here, Louis. Really.” Pedro stood in front of the club’s main entrance, feeling uneasy. Earlier, he’d relied on Louis not only for a booty call, but also for a scapegoat from his own misery. Having the man drive him to work was too much kindness in one day. Pedro had no idea how much more his conscience could take.

“What are you talking about, it’s no problem,” Louis smiled, lightly pinching Pedro’s cheek. “And I also wanted to meet your friends officially.”

“But you’ve already met Vinco and Bertrand—”

Louis looked at him pointedly.

“Oh. _Right_.” He gave the bouncer a nod, and went through the red hallway. As they walked, Louis put his hand around Pedro’s waist, hoping to get a good reaction.

Pedro didn’t even bat an eyelash.

The two made their way through the crowd to the bar. “Hey, Irfane!” Pedro yelled over the loud music.

Irfane turned to see Pedro and another man at the bar. “You’re late!” he joked, smiling at his boss. “VIP’s here already. Where’ve you been?”

“Don’t ask,” Pedro winked.

“Won’t even think about it. Who’s your friend?” Irfane asked, casting his eyes on the taller, bearded man beside his boss. This guy had eyes with sunshine in them, and he kept giving Pedro these little looks that easily spelled affection.

“Oh, yeah,” Pedro said, pulling the other man closer. “Louis, meet Irfane, Ed Banger’s bartender, and my great friend.” Pedro paused a bit as the two shook hands. “Irfane, this is Louis. My boyfriend.”

“ _Really_ now!” Irfane exclaimed.

“Yes, we are _together_ ,” Pedro said, hearing the disbelief in the bartender’s voice. “Give us specials at the VIP booth, man,” he instructed before leaving. He knew the guy had questions, but now was not the time. For now, he had to break it to Vinco, first.

He reached the VIP booth, where he found his friend and Sebastian staring at each other intently—he knew Vinco well enough to know he was giving his dancer The Look. “Well, don’t let us interrupt the two of you,” he said loudly, startling the two.

“Hey, there you are!” Vinco greeted. “We were just talking. Sebastian’s very easy to talk to,” he added, looking back at Sebastian.

“It’s not easy not to talk to you, Vincent,” Sebastian replied, slipping back into his cutesy, sex-kitten character. “You’re a funny guy.” He knew that Vinco would notice, but his boss was here, and right now, Pedro’s opinion was still more important.

Pedro and Louis sat down on the vacant couch. Here it was. The moment of truth. “Vinco, I’m sure you remember Louis?”

“Of course I do,” Vinco answered. “How was your morning, Louis? Good, I hope?”

Louis blushed and laughed. “Yes, it was.”

Pedro threw Vinco a mean look. “Anyway, this is Louis, he’s my boyfriend. Louis, Vinco. Be nice to him.”

“I am nice!” Vinco said defensively. He made a move to stand up, making Sebastian get up as well. “And to prove how nice I am, I am going to give you guys some privacy,” he said, taking Sebastian by the hand. “If you need me, I’ll be in the private booths, getting a lapdance.”

 

♥♥♥

 

After the two got inside the private booth, they stared at each other, not entirely sure of what to do.

“Pedro has a boyfriend…?” Sebastian said, breaking the awkward silence.

“It’s news to me, too,” Vinco said, taking a seat. “Why didn’t he tell us it was getting serious?”

“Why? Weren’t you aware of Louis? I mean, as more than Pedro’s friend?” Sebastian asked, still near the entrance.

Vinco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We knew they were friends, but I had no idea that guy was making moves on him. God.”

“What’s so bad about him, anyway? He seems like a good guy. He looks like he really likes Pedro.”

“It’s not Louis I’m worried about.”

Sebastian turned the music on and rushed to Vinco’s lap.

 

[ “ _Bad (RIHmix)_ ” – _Wale and Rihanna_ ] 

 

“What’re you—?”

“Cameras. We can’t be seen just talking,” Sebastian said. He moved his hips a bit. “What’s wrong with Pedro?”

“Why are you curious about your own boss?”

“Pedro’s more than a dad to me, and I really want to know him more. Please?”

Vincent stayed silent.

“Vincent?”

“Fine. But don’t blame me if Pedro gets pissed at you from snooping around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis = Brodinski (I paired him up with Pedro because of a post on Instagram where he calls Brodi his ex. Playfully, of course)
> 
> Honey/Hugo = Madeon
> 
> Comments? Suggestions? :D


	6. Fears and Doubts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean for so much drama to happen in this fic, I am so sorry ; A;
> 
> Anyway, here's the sixth chapter. Enjoooooy :D

“That’s why I didn’t really approve of Pedro being with Louis,” Vinco concluded. He winced, feeling a pins-and-needles sensation in his legs. “Now, as much as I enjoy having a very attractive man on my lap, I’m going to need you to get off. I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

“Oh. Right,” Sebastian said, standing up and shaking his legs. Spending more than twenty minutes with his legs apart straddling someone’s thighs made his own legs sore.

“And turn that thing off, that song’s been on loop for five times now.” When Sebastian turned the docked iPod off, the sudden lack of noise threw Vinco off—it was a strange kind of refreshing. “Thanks,” he said, grunting as he stretched his legs. His erection had subsided because of all the heavy conversation, and he thanked God for it.

“I feel bad for Pedro,” Sebastian mused. “I had no idea. I always thought he just wasn’t interested in dating. I mean, that’s what he’d always tell us when we’d ask.”

“I feel horrible.” Vinco leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I should be happy for him, because he’s my best friend, and if he’s happy with Louis, then I’m supposed to be happy for him. But I know he never let himself grieve over Mehdi.” He ruffled his hair in frustration. “Goddammit.” He looked up at Sebastian and offered a weak smile. “I can’t believe this.”

“What?”

“I’m in a private booth in a strip club, and here we are, having a conversation about your boss.” Vinco laughed. “You must think I’m a lousy VIP.”

Sebastian felt a warmth bloom in his chest. “You really care about Pedro, don’t you?”

“He’s like a brother to me. I love that guy.”

 _Oh, no. I’m liking him more and more._ Sebastian walked over to where Vinco was, and bent over. Softly, he pressed his lips on the man’s forehead, savoring the scent of his hair, a combination of soap, perfume, and his own sweat. He straightened up and smiled down at the man, who looked at him with quiet shock. “Pedro will be fine. He has a friend like you. Don’t worry. He’ll be okay.”

Seeing Sebastian smile—the genuine smile, not a fake, ‘for the clients’ smile—made Vinco honestly want to melt. He raised his hand to brush away a lock of sweaty hair from Sebastian’s brow, but before he could touch his face, Sebastian took his hand.

“You’re making this really difficult for me,” he muttered.

Vinco took his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop.”

Another awkward silence stretched between them. “Well, let’s get out of here before someone thinks we’re doing things,” Sebastian suggested.

“Hold on—what about… you know,” Vinco trailed. “What about this?” he continued, motioning to his crotch.

“It’s amazing how quickly you can change my perspective about you,” Sebastian dryly said.

“I’m not being a pervert, I promise!”

“Yeah, you are.”

“No, I meant… What if we went out there, after more than twenty minutes, and my dick doesn’t look hard anymore?” Vinco reasoned, hoping he didn’t sound like a scheming pervert. “After a _supposed_ lapdance, the VIP goes out looking sated and relaxed, implying…?”

The concept slowly dawned on Sebastian. “Implying that I actually got you off,” he said, finishing the sentence. “Therefore putting me at risk of violating a club policy.”

Vinco put his hands up. “I just don’t want you to lose your job, that’s all.” He honestly didn’t want Sebastian to get sacked. It seemed like a nasty loophole to have the other man on him again, but it honestly made sense. At least, he hoped it did.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re actually really smart, aren’t you, Vincent?”

“Most times I’m not, so I want to make the most of the rare times I am.”

Sebastian sauntered to Vinco, who stood up. “You’re weird, Vincent.”

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

To Vinco’s shock, Sebastian pressed his thigh to his crotch, slowly, gently rubbing up and down, but with enough pressure to make the man gasp.

“There. Is that enough?” Sebastian asked, thigh still south of Vinco’s hardening border.

“I think so, yes, that’s-that’s okay,” Vinco strained. He exhaled hard after Sebastian took his leg away. “God, give a man a warning.”

“Consider that a freebie. That’s the last time I’m touching Little Vinco.”

“Did you just give my dick a nickname?”

“Shut it. Look flustered and a tiny bit satisfied. All right?”

“Got it. Lead the way,” Vinco smiled, following the man out of the booth.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Look at them,” Xavier grumbled, watching from a spot backstage that offered a view of the crowd in the club. He looked on, frowning at the sight of a smiling Sebastian and the VIP. “How long were they in there? They’re fooling around, I’m sure of it.”

“What exactly is your beef with my roomie, Xavier?” Uffie asked, rolling her eyes. She spent most of her time backstage, mainly because it smelled nicer and it wasn’t as noisy. And she enjoyed talking to Marie and Maria about random things—however, Thibaut had to stay in the filler dancers’ dressing room because one of them complained about his shoes again. From time to time, Irfane would bring them drinks. It was pretty chill.

Except for Xavier’s sour attitude towards Sebastian. How did Gaspard tolerate him? When Xavier just grunted at her, she pressed further. “No, seriously, Xavier? Why do you hate Sebos so much?”

“You trying to start something, Blondie?” Xavier snapped, looking over his shoulder.

“No.” Uffie flicked some hair off her shoulder. “I’m really curious. Why do you _hate_ him so much?”

Marie and Marie were wary of the situation. Granted, Uffie seemed like she could handle Xavier, but the last time a fight happened backstage, someone almost had their nose broken. “Hey, Uffie, do you want to go get some air or something? Or some drinks?” Maria offered, trying to intervene.

“Maybe later, after Xavier answers the question,” Uffie replied, eyes still trained on the man. “So? What is it?”

“Everyone thinks he’s just perfect, when he’s actually not. That annoys the fuck out of me,” Xavier said, facing Uffie. “He’s not flawless, but everyone here basically worships him.”

“So you’re jealous of him?”

“Why do you feel the need to fuck around?” Xavier questioned, his voice rising. He started walking towards the girl.

Marie stood up and got between them before Xavier could get any closer. “Okay, let’s calm down, take it down to a two.” She glanced at Uffie. “Let’s change the topic, Uffie, shall we?”

“Not until he answers the question,” Uffie said, eyes still on Xavier, who frowned at her.

“She’s fucking stirring the pot!” Xavier shouted over Marie’s shoulder.

“I’m not, I just want you to answer my question.”

“You little—”

“Go ahead, hit me. It’s only going to prove the point that my best friend makes you feel insecure,” Uffie stated.

“ _Okay!_ Okay! We can sort this out,” Marie exclaimed when she felt Xavier struggle past her to hit the girl. She blocked his body with her arms and, for her own good, braced herself.

“Get _off_ of me,” Xavier hissed, slapping her arms away and shoving her. He stormed out of the dressing room, his heels grinding into the floor with each step.

With Xavier gone, Marie looked at Uffie quizzically. “Are you _crazy_?”

Uffie crossed her legs. “Somebody had to stand up to him. I can’t let him keep dissing my best friend.”

“Has it been _really_ bad between them?” Maria asked. “It’s not our business, but if we’re working here, we might as well know.”

Uffie shrugged. “Sebos has been working here for almost two years now. Ever since Pedro chose him to be one of the club’s main performers, Xavier’s been fucking around with him. How Sebos has the patience to deal with him is a mystery.” She looked at her reflection in the mirror to her side. “Sebastian is my best friend. I’ll be damned if I let anyone like Xavier mess with him.”

The three heard steps click-clacking down the little staircase from the stage. Gaspard walked into the dressing room, tiny shorts and garter belt lined with folded-up bills and rosettes of cash. He wiped his face with his hand. “Hello, girls,” he greeted, smiling at Marie and Maria. “And hello, new girl,” he added, noticing Uffie.

“That’s Uffie,” Marie replied. “She’s Sebastian’s roommate. Uffie, this is Gaspard,” she paused, “Xavier’s boyfriend.”

“Oh. Hi,” came Uffie’s clipped response, voice sounding too cool to be friendly.

Gaspard raised his eyebrows, slightly shocked by the stranger’s apparent dislike. “I’m guessing she doesn’t like me,” he said. “Anyway, have you seen Xavier?” he asked, heading for his makeup table and spraying a cloud of hairspray around his hair. “He’s dancing after two numbers from the filler dancers.”

“He walked out,” Uffie said, regarding the man. “And it’s not you I don’t like. It’s your boyfriend.”

Marie and Maria were stunned silent. Uffie, this petite blonde standing at a few inches over five feet, was mouthing off about one Ed Banger’s fiercest strippers to his boyfriend, unfazed and unafraid. They wondered how Gaspard would react—deep down they hoped he wouldn’t lash out like Xavier.

“Really, now?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Let’s not play dumb.” Uffie stared at Gaspard, eyes stone-cold. “Handle your partner. Sebastian doesn’t deserve shit from an insecure monkey.”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call Xavier that,” the man replied, matching Uffie’s chilly tone.

“How do you tolerate him?”

“I don’t have to ‘tolerate’ him, because I love him.”

Maria could swear she felt the temperature in the room drop.

Uffie scoffed. “Different strokes for different folks, I guess.” She stood up and stretched her arms. “Come on, Marie. Let’s go get some drinks.” She looked at Gaspard and offered him a smile. “Nice meeting you, Gaspard.”

The man plopped himself into his chair and raised his legs, settling them on an armrest. His pumps dangled off his feet, the silver sheen catching the light. “The feeling’s mutual, Uffie.” Once the two girls left, he looked to Maria. “Could you help me with my costume for the next act?” he asked, trying to play off the unsettling vibe that still hung in the air of the room.

Maria shuffled over to where he was. “Of course.” As the man stood up, she went behind him and undid the clasp that secured the collar he wore.

“Xavier doesn’t mean it,” Gaspard said, after a silent moment. “He doesn’t…he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone. Sometimes he does, but he doesn’t completely hate Sebastian.”

Maria set the collar on the table in front of them. “You don’t have to explain it to me,” she said, looking into his eyes through their reflections in the mirror.

“I know, but I want to. For Xavier’s sake.”

The girl smiled to herself. “Take those bills out of your garter, I’ll straighten them out. Then take your shorts off.” As the man did what she instructed, she took the crumpled money and straightened them out, laying them flat against the table and stacking them.

“Xavier doesn’t actually hate Sebastian,” Gaspard continued, unclasping the garter belt from the thigh highs he wore. He sat in his chair again to pull each stocking off all the way. “He just has issues that he has no idea how to deal with. I try to help, but the most I can do is damage control,” he said, handing the girl the stockings.

“Can I ask what those issues are?” Maria asked, turning the stockings inside-out, to air them. “You don’t have to answer that, if you don’t want to.”

Gaspard stood up again, taking the garter belt off. “Sometimes, I don’t even know. All I know is that Xavier’s had a lot to deal with. He just…doesn’t know what to do about his past. Sebastian is, unfortunately, a scapegoat for those issues.”

“I see,” Maria said, taking the garter belt and folding it. “I’m sorry,” she added, hoping that the statement conveyed how much she wanted for the two of them to work things out. Their relationship must be a lot of hard work—she admired how Gaspard was so patient. Guys like him were rare.

Gaspard smiled. “It’s okay. Thank you.” He took off his shorts and handed them to the girl, who aimed to shoot the pair into the laundry basket on the other side of the room. “You’re kidding. That’s too far.”

“Watch me,” Maria laughed. “She aims to shoot for a three-pointer,” she said, imitating a courtside announcer, “is she going to make it?”

“No, she’s not!” Gaspard shouted, starting to laugh as well.

“She shoots, and she…” Maria trailed, throwing the pair of shorts. When the shorts sailed into the basket, she punched the air with a triumphant shout. “She _scores_!” She turned to Gaspard, who was standing in his underwear, laughing. “I told you!”

“That was great,” he chuckled. As the laughter subsided, he smiled at the girl. “Thank you, Maria.”

Maria, in turn, beamed at Gaspard. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get you in your next costume.”

 

♥♥♥

 

The club was closing down for the day. Sebastian sat in the dressing room alone, wiping off the remnants of makeup. The only downside of using expensive makeup was that it took forever to remove. He slowly rubbed on his eyelids with a facial tissue, soggy with makeup remover. As he wiped his face, he heard footsteps approaching the curtained entrance. “If this is about Uffie, Xavier, I’m not going to ask her to apologize to you. Girl had a point,” he drawled, not looking away from his reflection. He expected Xavier’s reflection to appear behind him, scowling.

Instead, he saw Pedro walking through the curtained entrance. “Oh, hey, Boss. Thought you were Xavier.”

“Hey, Seb, can I talk to you for a minute?” Pedro asked, wearing a serious expression. “It’s kind of important.”

Sebastian turned in his seat to face his boss, and bit his lip. “If Xavier told you about what Uffie said, I take full responsibility. Please don’t get mad at her.”

Pedro looked at Sebastian, confused. “What are you talking about? Did they have a fight?”

“Oh, shit,” Sebastian blurted, realizing what he’d done. “You know what, maybe that conversation’s for another time. What did you want to talk to me about again?” he hastily added, hoping that Pedro wouldn’t ask further about what he’d said.

The other man had an uneasy expression as he pulled a chair so he could sit in front of Sebastian. “I know you follow rules more than anyone here, Seb, and I don’t want to seem distrustful. I want you to understand that, okay?”

“Okay…?” Sebastian answered, unsure of what to say. “Pedro, what’s this about?”

“Earlier, when I saw you and Vinco, I noticed how he was looking at you,” Pedro said. “Vinco’s my friend, and I can tell when he wants to be… closer to someone.”

Sebastian felt a blush coming on. “As much as I’m flattered, I think you’re reading too far into this. Vincent is just a client, and I know for a fact that I don’t… I mean, I would never even think of it like that. We were just fooling around, you know?”

“Are you sure?” Pedro pressed, noticing how uncomfortable it was making Sebastian. “If something’s going on, might as well tell me now. Please be honest with me, Sebastian.”

“How could you even think that, Pedro? I mean, honestly?” Sebastian countered, feeling a bit offended—he’d been trying his hardest not to get carried away by his crush on the VIP, and it was getting frustrating hearing his own boss insinuate that he was fucking around with a club policy that he was trying tooth and nail to stick to.

“I’m just asking you to be honest with me, Sebastian, I never meant to offend you.”

“Fine, I’ll be honest—I don’t think you should be with your boyfriend,” Sebastian replied. Only when Pedro looked at him, taken aback, did he realize what he just said. “I just—”

“Excuse me?”

Sebastian gulped. “I don’t think you should have a boyfriend,” he said, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. “It’s not the right time yet. You should let yourself,” he paused, weighing the word he was going to say, “grieve.”

Pedro felt all the blood drain from his face. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you should let yourself move on before—”

“Where did you hear this?”

“Please, Pedro, it’s for your own good—”

“ _Answer me, Sebastian!_ ” Pedro firmly said, not looking at the man who was now silent. He looked up at Sebastian, affronted. “Why do you _know_ this?”

Guilt crept up on Sebastian as he saw the sadness in Pedro’s eyes. “Pedro, I…” No matter how much he wanted to tell Pedro, Sebastian couldn’t. “I’m so sorry,” he said, voice coming out as a whisper. “I overheard Bertrand talking to Irfane once,” he lied. “Don’t blame them. I just heard them. I’m sorry.”

Pedro’s vision started to blur with tears. He blinked quickly, hoping the tears would subside. “It’s fine,” he said, looking up to face Sebastian. “I’m sorry.”

Sebastian reached for a tissue and wordlessly offered it to his boss. “I’m sorry. I’ll never mention it again.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” Pedro said, wiping his nose with the tissue. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I was suspicious. It’s the stress you know?”

“I understand,” Sebastian nodded.

“Babe, you ready to go?” It was Louis, who was poking his head through the curtains. Once he saw Sebastian and Pedro talking, he excused himself. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, we were just talking about the costumes,” Pedro said, clearing his throat. “The dancers need new costumes, that’s all.”

“Have you been crying?” Louis asked, concern in his voice as he entered the dressing room. He knelt by Pedro’s side and brushed some hair away from the man’s face. “Hey, is something wrong?”

“I’m fine. Just allergic to the perfume in here,” Pedro smiled, shaking his head. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” Louis said, smiling back before he stood up.

As Sebastian watched their exchange, he felt jealous. A man like Louis, who probably already knew what kind of baggage Pedro had, obviously loved wholeheartedly, and was very considerate. He was jealous of what Pedro had, but as he looked on, he noticed how Pedro’s eyes didn’t sparkle the same way his boyfriend’s did, whenever they looked at each other. _Oh, no. Poor Louis_.

 _Still_ , Sebastian thought, _having someone would be better than no one._

“Well, we’re going,” Pedro said, holding Louis’s hand.

“Be careful,” Sebastian said, patting Pedro’s shoulder. “Drive safe. Louis, take care of my boss,” he added, looking to the taller man.

“I will.”

When the two left, Sebastian sighed and continued taking off his makeup. Once he was done, he changed out of his costume and into his usual clothes. He turned the lights out in the dressing room and went to the bar, where Irfane, Thibaut, and the girls were. “Where’s Uffie?”

“She left early, said she still had classes. Don’t worry, I called a cab for her, and she’s home safe,” Thibaut assured, waving his phone. “She just asked when you’re coming home.”

“Thanks. Tell her I’ll be home in thirty. Did the others go home already?”

“Xavier and Gaspard left before Pedro and his new squeeze,” Marie commented, swiveling the barstool she sat on. “How long have those two been together?”

“Not long enough, I think,” Thibaut mumbled. He sat up on the bar and swung his legs. “The other guy seems so smitten, and Pedro… well.”

“Baby, get off the bar,” Irfane said, pinching the side of Thibaut’s thigh and making him squeak. “Obviously, they just got together, but let’s not undermine their relationship. Maybe Louis is just who Pedro needs. We should support him.”

“True,” Sebastian nodded. “Well, I’m going. Marie and Maria, do you want to walk with me?”

“Sorry, Seb, but we’re walking with Thibaut and Irfane,” Maria apologized. “We happen to live in the same apartment complex, so we go home together. Sorry.”

 _Great. I get to be alone with my thoughts_ , Sebastian thought, while an understanding “Oh” left his lips. “Good night, then. Or good morning,” he waved, heading for the door. Once he was in the red hallway, he sighed aloud. He really didn’t want to walk home alone, not after his conversation with Pedro. Guilt sat like a heavy lead weight in his stomach as he recalled how hurt Pedro was when he mentioned why he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. It wasn’t his place to speak about it, but he went and ran his mouth. “Fuck…”

He opened the main entrance, stopping when a wave of cold air washed over him. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his thick black jacket as he started walking up the stairs.

“Hey.”

“ _Holy shit!_ ” Sebastian jumped. To the corner of the wall near the staircase was Vinco, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He gave him a goofy smile, as if amused to see him startled. “Dick move, Vincent. Dick move.”

Vinco laughed. “I didn’t think I’d scare you that much!” He walked towards Sebastian. “Sorry.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you went home with Pedro.”

“I don’t want to be a third wheel,” Vinco said, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I also wanted to walk you home.”

 _Refuse the offer, Sebastian._ “Why would you want to do that?” Sebastian said. _Holy shit, why am I extending this conversation?_ In his mind he was kicking himself, alarms and red alerts going off. What was he doing? Why was saying no so difficult with this man?

Vinco smiled. “Because I like you. And long walks are conducive for getting to know another person,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

“There’s nothing to know,” Sebastian grumbled, starting to walk away. If he couldn’t find anything to dislike in Vinco— _Vincent! God! No nicknames!_ —he was going to make the guy dislike _him_ instead. “Go away.”

“Come on, I know there’s someone under all that darkness and sexiness,” Vinco coaxed, keeping up. “So. What’s your favorite color?”

Sebastian pursed his lips and shook his head, trying not to let a smile show.

“Red? Green? Wait, I know—it’s black!”

“It’s blue, now fuck off,” Sebastian chuckled.

“There you go, now we’re talking,” Vinco cheered. “Mine’s red.”

“What makes you think I wanted to know?”

“I was just being fair! You said something, so I have to tell you something in return,” Vinco shrugged. “Favorite food?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Answer it.”

“Vanilla-lemon cupcakes. Now stop talking to me.”

“I didn’t peg you as a vanilla-type of person!” Vinco teased. “I must say, I’m surprised.”

“Why, because I’m a stripper?”

It took Vinco a moment to realize Sebastian’s joke—once he got the man’s play on words, he felt giddiness well up in his chest. Great God in Heaven, he was now on the ‘jokes level’ with Sebastian. The world was suddenly a beautiful place. “Did you just crack a joke? A sexy joke?”

“Shut up, Vincent.”

“You cracked a sexy joke. God is real.”

“Get bent, Vincent,” Sebastian laughed. No matter how hard he tried not to even giggle, he couldn’t help it. This man was winning his heart, one frail, damaged bit at a time.

Vinco smiled at Sebastian. “I love how you say my name. Somehow it sounds better when you say it.” He offered the man his arm, hoping with all his heart Sebastian would take it.

 _I’m going to regret this someday_ , Sebastian thought, debating whether he should take Vinco’s arm. When the VIP raised a questioning eyebrow at him, he sighed and took the offered arm. “What’s so different about me saying your name?”

The two turned a corner by a café. Through the glass window, they saw that the morning crew was starting to arrange the chairs. One of them glanced at Vinco’s and Sebastian’s passing figures, thinking they were going to be their first customers of the early morning. Vinco shrugged, trying to ignore his racing heartbeat. “Pedro and the others call me Vinco. You’re the only one who calls me Vincent.”

“Should I call you Vinco, then?” Sebastian asked. He then noticed Vinco’s stuttering footsteps—the man was walking and half-skipping. “Is there something wrong with your feet?”

“I want to match your footsteps. Walk slower,” Vinco replied. “And no. You’re the only one who gets to call me Vincent. Keep using that name. Please?”

Sebastian clutched his arm. “Well, since you asked nicely…”

Vinco laughed. “Let’s go back to the game. Favorite animal?”

“Oh, that’s difficult,” Sebastian mused. “Cats, then. Favorite time of day?”

“That moment when the sun has set, but it isn’t completely dark yet,” Vinco answered. “When the sky and everything else looks painted with different shades of blue. ‘The Blue Hour’, my mom used to say.”

It was only a few meters away from where Sebastian lived. The birds had started singing. Sebastian dared himself to ask a question he knew that, once answered, would open a whole new situation that would be difficult to get out of. “Favorite person?”

Vinco looked into Sebastian’s sky-blue eyes. These were the eyes he would never get tired of looking into. “Currently?”

“Whatever,” Sebastian shrugged.

The two approached the steps leading up to the main entrance of the apartment complex. “You,” Vinco said.

Oh, how Sebastian wanted to drown in those deep, brown eyes. He let go of Vinco’s arm and looked for his keys in his pockets. He left the man at the bottom of the steps and unlocked the main door. Before he went inside, he spared Vinco one more curious look. “Can I ask you one more question?”

Vinco softly smiled and went up the stairs. “Go ahead.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Vinco asked, now at the top step, leveled with Sebastian.

“Why do you like me so much? Be honest.”

“Promise me not to freak out first.”

“Shoot.”

“I dreamt of you. I never knew who you were, but I always saw you in my dreams,” Vinco said. “I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

Sebastian had no idea how to react. Was Vinco fucking around? “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope. Ask Pedro.”

Sebastian wanted to cover his face. He knew he was blushing. Goddamn everything. “Good night, Vincent. Or good morning,” he quipped before slamming the door in the man’s face.

The sudden slamming of the door shocked Vinco. He started to laugh at himself and at the entire unfolding of events—never mind that Sebastian closed the door on him. He got somewhere with him. He walked him home. That was pretty big for a baby step. Before he could turn to leave, the door opened again.

Sebastian grabbed his arm and kissed him on the cheek.

 

♥♥♥

 

Sebastian nearly broke the door to his apartment down as he sped towards his roommate’s room. When he reached Uffie’s room, he found her reading a magazine in her bed.

“Hey, Sebos. Did you run all the way home? You look like shit,” Uffie commented, putting her _Vogue_ down.

“He dreamt of me,” Sebastian said between labored breaths. He leaned on the doorjamb. “He dreamt of me, even before we met.”

“Are you talking about…?”

Sebastian nodded slowly, eyes wide.

“ _Oh, my god_ ,” Uffie exclaimed, bouncing up on her knees. “Was he serious? What’d you do?”

Sebastian walked towards the girl’s bed and let himself sink onto it. “He walked me home—”

“ _He walked you home?_ ”

“—and he told me I was his favorite person, and that he’d been dreaming about me without knowing who I was,” Sebastian recounted, eyes staring miles away. He was in trouble now.

“What’d you do?”

Sebastian looked at Uffie as if he’d killed a man. “I kissed him.”

“On the lips?”

“Cheek.” Before Uffie could speak, he quickly added to what he’d just said. “I mean, I’ve kissed him before, but it wasn’t… I mean, it was only on the forehead, so it doesn’t count! The first one was more like a thank-you kiss or something—Oh, _God_. I kissed him _twice_ ,” he muttered, realizing what he was saying. He looked at Uffie gravely. “I kissed Vincent twice.”

Uffie’s smile grew slowly. “Sebos, you really like him! You really, _really_ like him!” she giggled. “Don’t look so grave, my darling—this is _big_! When has a guy told you he dreamt of you? Ever? He’s so into you, and you’re into him! This is what romance novels talk about!” She hugged him tight. “Sebos, I’m so happy for you!”

“I am going to get fired,” Sebastian squeaked, still in the girl’s arms. “He’s going to tell Pedro, Pedro’s going to find out, I’ll lose my job.” He pressed his palms to his eyes. “What do I do, Uff?”

“You’re not going to lose your job, Sebos,” she assured him. She adjusted her position so that her legs were in Sebastian’s lap. “Hey. Pedro’s not going to fire you. It’s not your fault. Okay?” When Sebastian was still silent, she nuzzled his neck. “Do you really like the VIP?”

Sebastian nodded, a slow admission to both the girl and himself that, yes, he really did like Vincent, the VIP with silver hair, the man who was sweet and funny and kind.

The man who could break his heart.

“Then why are you sad?”

“Because I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of feelings.” He sighed. It was never just about his job—he thought it was that, at first. But now, it had turned into something more, and it terrified him that he could like a person he’d only met a few days back so fast and so much. He let himself fall back on the mattress and put his arm over his eyes. “It’s too fast. I like him already.” Turning to his side, he bit his lip. “I like him.”

Uffie mirrored her roommate’s position. “You can’t put a clock on liking somebody, Sebos,” she said with a little smile of encouragement. “Sometimes, liking someone takes a year. A month. Seconds. And none of that is wrong. It’s okay.” She tapped his nose. “Maybe this guy, he might be good for you.”

“But what if… What if he only likes me because I’m a stripper?”

“Sebos, he _dreamt_ of you. That means something more,” she said. “You just so happened to be a stripper when he met you.”

“But I’ll get fired.”

“If Pedro is the good guy we got to know him as, he won’t fire you.” Uffie stroked Sebastian’s cheek. “It’s time someone took care of you, Seb. This guy might be it.”

Sebastian smiled weakly. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. How do you do that?”

“It’s a secret power only girls have.”

“Can I sleep here? My room’s too cold.” _And too empty, and too big for just myself right now_.

“Of course!” Uffie sat up. “We can just snuggle. My bed’s a bit smaller than yours and, let’s face it, you’re no size two,” she joked sticking her tongue out at him.

“Shut up and sleep with me,” Sebastian grumbled. He kicked his shoes off and tossed his jacket to the floor.

“At least wash your face,” Uffie giggled, pulling the covers from underneath Sebastian. “Hey, lie down properly, don’t hog my space.”

“Or what?” Sebastian challenged, still on his side.

“Fucking move!” the girl laughed. When Sebastian repositioned himself, she got on the bed and pulled the cover on top of them. Then Sebastian started scooting downwards. “Sebos, what are you doing?”

Sebastian didn’t answer the girl—instead, he lay his head on her chest and pulled her close. Her pert, braless breasts cushioned his heavy head as he listened to her heart, a steady beating under her shirt. When she put a hand on his head, and another on his back, he sighed.

“Go to sleep, Sebos,” Uffie murmured, closing her eyes as well. “You’re tired. You need to rest.”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling sleep sitting on his eyelids, making them heavy. He blinked a few times before finally letting himself drift away. He saw Vinco as he closed his eyes, and hoped to return the favor of dreaming about him.

 

♥♥♥

 

The atmosphere at the Oizo Entertainment Agency was awkward. Granted, Vinco got a spot to audition for a supporting role for some up-and-coming TV show about a zombie driver—hell, he was lucky to even be _considered_ for this role—but now, the director wanted him to read for the leading role.

Secretly, Vinco wanted the lead. Really, he did. It had been years since his last acting stint, and if he landed a good role in this, he wouldn’t have to keep working odd jobs to make ends meet. Unfortunately, the leading actor had already been casted.

But he still had a shot. And it was making the leading actor mad.

“Please calm down, Peter, he’s just going to read a few lines,” a producer said. She was young, but her expression was that of perpetual tiredness. Her dark brown hair had a few strands of grey in it.

“Bullshit! You’re trying to replace me, aren’t you!” Peter barked. At 52 years old, Peter was a pretty good-looking man. Unfortunately, film critics had other things to say, none of it pleasant. “You’re going to replace me with this fresh-faced newbie!”

“Should I go? Maybe I should go,” Vinco said, standing up and taking his script with him.

“No! No, the director said he wants to hear a few lines,” the producer said, trying to get him to sit back down. She turned to Peter. “Peter, Quentin just wants to hear this guy speak. You know him—he’s a bit off, very eccentric. Humor him for a while. Okay?”

Peter scowled at Vinco. “Fucking amateur,” he sneered, going back to his seat.

 _Well, shit_ , Vinco thought, grinding his molars.

If there’s anything you shouldn’t do, it’s to insult someone who threatens you.

“Where’s the director? Should I go to him now?” Vinco asked, standing up. He left his original script on his seat and approached Peter. “Can I borrow that?” he asked, smirking at the man. He held his hand out and wiggled his fingers for the lead role’s script.

“Peter, he needs the script—”

“He can go fuck himself, that’s what he can do.”

Vinco chuckled. “Come on, man, chill the fuck out—”

“ _I’m not going to chill the fuck out, you piece of shit_ —”

“What’s taking so long?”

They all turned to see Quentin Dupieux, the director of the said series. His thick brows furrowed in impatience, and he wrinkled his nose. With his beard and laid-back attire, he looked more like a college professor who spent his time drinking than reading. “Amandine, where’s the reader? Where’s Vincent?” He looked at Vinco. “Are you Vincent?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What the fuck are you waiting for, then? Come inside. Unless you don’t want this part,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Hey, you. Dickface,” he said, looking in Peter’s direction. “Give him the script.”

“What?!”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Peter was livid. He threw the script to the ground. “Fuck this. You’re nothing without me,” he hissed, stabbing a finger at Quentin. “You’re lucky I even _thought_ about auditioning!”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” Quentin said, putting a cigarette between his lips. “You.”

“Yes, sir,” Vinco answered, a little too quickly.

Quentin looked him up and down. “Do you read?”

“I—Of course. Yeah, I read.”

“I mean professionally. Do you act? Or is this your first time?”

Vinco picked the script up. “Yeah, I act. First time in a while, though.” All though, to be fair, this was going to be Vinco’s first time reading for a part of an undead character. Could he handle this?

“Good enough. Let’s hear you fuck up my script.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAHDAMN. I TOTALLY DID NOT EXPECT TO WRITE THIS MUCH DRAMA SORRY!! I promise, the next part will be a bit lighter than this.
> 
> Kavinsky actually really was an actor. The more yoooou knoooooow~
> 
> Woop, I added another character. Guess who.
> 
> Comments? Suggestions? Violent reactions? (god i hope not) Leave 'em below :D


	7. Opportunities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaaaand here is the seventh chapter! I managed to squeeze this into my super busy schedule. God, I missed writing this. So sorry for making you guys wait ; A; This is the legit seventh chapter, I deleted the interlude to make way for this. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! ♥

Strangely enough, Sebastian couldn’t sleep for as long as he had wanted. He woke up at half past ten, the sunlight pouring in from the cracks between Uffie’s curtained windows. He turned his head to the side and saw his roommate, sound asleep, lightly snoring with her lips parted. He nudged her gently. “Hey. Hey.”

“What?” she groaned, eyes still closed.

“Don’t you have class?”

“Fuck off. I’m skipping,” she grumbled, snatching the pillow Sebastian used and hugging it. “Everything’s spinning.”

“That’s what you get for clubbing on a school night.”

“Make it stop,” Uffie quietly whined, covering her face. She drifted back to sleep, making the man chuckle.

Sebastian disentangled himself from her thin limbs and stretched his own—arms, upward, then yawning. He caught sight of himself in Uffie’s full-length mirror: tired, in last night’s jeans and shirt and socks, with messed up hair.

If only Vincent saw him like this, unkempt and early-morning ugly, it would nip a lot of problems in the bud.

 _Vincent_ , Sebastian thought, touching his lips. He tried to remember how his stubbled cheek felt against his mouth, how his skin smelled of sweat and perfume, and how he looked at him as he told Sebastian he was his favorite person. _Goddamn everything._

He turned to Uffie, still asleep, and pulled the covers over her. He took his shoes and headed for his own room. Since he was already up, he might as well get his day started. After a quick shower, he went to the kitchen and made coffee. As the coffee pot filled itself with fresh brew, he sat in front of the table and put his face in his hands, only raising his head once he needed to breathe. The silence around him was loud enough to feel.

“Fuck,” he said, standing up again. He rushed to his room and changed into proper “outside” clothes, kicking his legs into jeans. Haphazardly, he left Uffie a note written on a scrap of paper that said _Went out for a walk. Probably going to get you breakfast. XOXO._ , and stuck it under an empty glass mug by the coffee pot. He collected his keys, phone, and wallet, went downstairs, and ventured outside.

“You’re up early!” a familiar voice said. It was Pedro. In his hand was a paper bag, heavy with what Sebastian figured were pastries. He smiled at him as if their last conversation was nothing but a bad dream. “Where are you headed?”

“I’m just getting breakfast. Uffie’s still asleep, so I thought I’d buy her something to eat for when she wakes up,” Sebastian said. “You’re pretty early yourself.”

“I woke up when Louis left to go to work, so…” Pedro wiggled the bag, “I’m taking these home to eat while he’s away.”

“I see.”

“Well, have a good morning, Seb. I’ll see you later—”

“Pedro, I’m sorry,” Sebastian said, cutting in.

“If this is still about our conversation earlier, don’t worry.” When Sebastian still looked at him with a guilty expression, Pedro clicked his tongue and pulled the man into an embrace. “I accepted your apology already. It’s okay.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Sebastian mumbled into his boss’s shoulder.

Pedro chuckled as he smoothed Sebastian’s hair. “And I won’t. Louis is a good guy. He might be too good for me, but he’s there for me, and I want to be there for him too. I’ll be okay, Seb.” He pulled Sebastian away. “It’s too sunny right now for you to be frowning. Come on, let’s buy Uffie breakfast together.”

It was obvious to both of them that the ‘new boyfriend’ problem was not over—instead, it was swept under a rug, tucked away in a corner of Pedro’s mind where he would deal with it whenever he was ready. For now, the sun was out, he had fresh croissants in a bag, a friend in one of his best performers, and a boyfriend who thought he was the sun and stars.

Pedro could settle for this scene of brief happiness. He knew one day the scene would have to end, and he’d have to face reality again, but until then, he decided to enjoy the little joy he had.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Let me get this straight—you got the part?!” Bertrand exclaimed happily into his phone. He was at his photo studio, a little side project he indulged whenever he wasn’t working at Pedro’s club. It got him a steady trickle of loose cash, but truly, he was in it because he simply enjoyed taking really cool pictures of people. There was something extremely satisfying in showing strangers different and beautiful perspectives of even the most boring things. He closed the door of his darkroom and spoke into the phone again. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Vinco.”

“I promise you, I most certainly am not,” Vinco laughed, sitting on the edge of his bed. In his hand was his script for the pilot episode of Quentin Dupieux’s _Nightcall_. He smiled down at it. It had been a long time since he held an actual script. “I’m holding the script right now.”

“Congratulations, man! Have you told Pedro yet?”

“I’ll tell him later, at the club.”

Bertrand raised his eyebrows as he held the phone. “I thought you didn’t enjoy Ed Banger that much. You’re using up the whole free week?”

Sebastian’s smile flashed in Vinco’s mind. “Let’s just say I found a reason to enjoy it,” he grinned, walking to his desk and leaving the script there. He’d read it later.

“Nice. Hey, Pedro told me something.”

“Is this about the boyfriend business?”

“ _You have a boyfriend?_ ” Bertrand asked, rather loudly.

On the other end of the line, Vinco pulled the phone away from his ear with a wince. “No, not me. Pedro.”

“ _Pedro has a boyfriend?_ ”

“Fuck, man, stop shouting!”

“Sorry.” Bertrand grabbed a chair and sat down. “He has a boyfriend? Like an actual boyfriend?”

Vinco walked outside his room. Such was his habit whenever he talked to people on the phone. “Yep. Apparently, they call each other ‘babe’. Remember Louis?”

“What, the guy we met at the club? ‘Long-legged’ Louis?”

“That’s the one,” Vinco said, passing by a mirror and tousling his hair. “He was at the club last night. Where the fuck were you, anyway? I had to be like the third wheel at the VIP booth.”

Bertrand laughed. “I was working on some photos at the studio. Why didn’t he tell me anything, though…?” he mused.

“Beats me. You were going to tell me something?” Vinco asked, going to the kitchen.

“Right. So Pedro told me you were getting close with Seb—”

“He told you _that_ , but he didn’t tell you about his boyfriend?” Vinco snapped, feeling shafted by Pedro. In hindsight, he knew he really shouldn’t be so attached to Sebastian because the man’s boss was his best friend, but this was unfair. “What’d he say?”

“He just told me to keep an eye out for you. Sebastian still works for Pedro, man. Sorry to be a buzzkill.”

Vinco sighed. “Don’t I know that. And you don’t have to worry. I don’t think Sebastian likes me that way. I mean, he deserves someone better, you know? Not some schmuck like me. Fuck, I don’t even have my own car.” The thought of slowly giving up on Sebastian gnawed at Vinco’s brain. He really didn’t want to give up, but who was he to Sebastian, if not just a client? Sure, he was being nice, but his job _required_ him to be like that. “I’m just going to enjoy the rest of my week.”

“Cheer up, Vinco,” Bertrand consoled.

“Thanks, man.”

“We need a schmuck like you in our group so Pedro and I feel good about ourselves, being richer than you,” Bertrand continued, a smile evident in his voice.

“Get your tripod and fuck yourself with it,” Vinco laughed, shaking his head.

“Let’s be honest! Looks-wise, you could mop the floor with us!”

“Flattery will get your hairy ass nowhere.” After his and Bertrand’s laughter and jokes died down, Vinco sighed. “Oh, man.”

“You really like Sebastian, don’t you?” Bertrand said.

“Have I told you that he was the man I’ve been dreaming of?”

“Pedro is a chatterbox, you don’t have to worry about explaining that part. So? Do you?”

Vinco sat down on his weathered leather couch, biting his lower lip. “I think I do, man. I really, really do.”

Bertrand tutted. “It’s cool, Vinco. I hope things work out.”

“Me too. Thanks.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Like every night at Ed Banger, the club was teeming with men hoping to blow off some steam and other things. The music was pumping, filler dancers were onstage, the drinks came glass after glass, bottle after bottle. In the VIP booth, Pedro, Bertrand, and Vinco sat, discussing Vinco’s new job.

“So you’re really going to be on TV? An actual TV series?” Pedro asked, delighted at the news. He clapped Vinco on the back. “I need an autograph, man! When you get really famous, I’m putting it up for auction!”

Vinco laughed. “It isn’t a really big production. I mean, Quentin’s a big name in the industry, but the show’s pretty indie.” He tried to hide the fact that he was actually over the moon for this project—it had been too long since he acted, _really_ acted. Shooting for commercials wasn’t difficult, it was simply tedious. It got him extra cash, but one can only keep doing hand soap advertisements for so long.

“You didn’t tell me what it was about, earlier,” Bertrand commented, taking a sip from his beer.

“It’s about a zombie,” Vinco replied. “Technically, I think he’s a ghost, but it’s Quentin’s idea, so whatever. He’s this guy who dies in a car accident, and then he comes back as a zombie with all these powers. I think he’s really cool.”

“What’s his name?” Pedro asked.

“Kavinsky,” Vinco said in an ominous voice, making his friends laugh. “I actually really want to be this dude. He’s got this cool, 80s vibe, and an awesome car, and this hot chick who’s still kind of hung up on him… Kavinsky is cool,” he nodded, agreeing with himself.

“Speaking of cars, when are you getting yourself one?” Bertrand asked. “I’m betting this show’s going to get you enough cash to buy one.”

“Yeah, I can’t keep being your personal driver-nanny,” Pedro joked, earning a friendly punch on the shoulder.

Vinco leaned back into the couch. “Man, I haven’t even thought about that yet. But I _have_ been eyeing one car, a Testa.”

“Testa, as in, Ferarri Testa?” Pedro questioned, impressed by his friend’s choice. Personally, he preferred a Benz, but Vinco had always been one for drama.

“A red one.”

“Nice,” Bertrand agreed. He raised his bottle. “Gentlemen, I propose a toast,” he said, smiling at Vinco, “to Vinco’s acting career!”

“To Kavinsky, King of the Undead!” Pedro cheered, raising his glass.

“To a car, finally!” Vinco laughed, raising his glass as well. As their drinks clinked against each other, Vinco felt a hand snake around his chest. He turned around, expecting to see Sebastian’s porcelain face. Instead, his eyes were met by deep-set, chocolate-colored eyes, rimmed with dark eyeliner.

“Hey, big boy,” Xavier smirked, face inches away from Vinco’s. When he was this close to the VIP, Xavier couldn’t fault Sebastian for liking this guy. In all fairness, the VIP was a rugged, crooked kind of handsome. He looked like the type of man your mother would tell you to stay away from.

“Ah, Xavier!” Pedro greeted. “Join us, Vinco needs company celebrating his new job,” he said, pointing at his friend. “Xavier, Vinco, Vinco, Xavier. You’ve actually met each other before.”

“Really?” Xavier asked, studying Vinco’s face. “Oh, yes, I remember you! The cutie in the white shirt, the one who tipped me a lot. Nice to see you again,” he smiled. “What’s this I hear about a new job?” Xavier asked, going around the couch to take a seat with them. He added more swing in his step so Vinco could see how his hips moved.

 “He’s an actor,” Bertrand commented.

“Oh, so you make movies! I’d _love_ to be in one with you,” Xavier purred, sitting in Vinco’s lap. “So what kinds of characters do you play?”

Vinco cleared his throat. Having someone else in his lap felt… odd. With this skinny (but no less handsome) man on him, he couldn’t help but compare him with Sebastian. He missed the soft but firm pressing of Sebastian’s warm thighs on his, missed Sebastian’s weight on him, missed his smell and his sharp, almost-bored gaze. Xavier was cute, but he did not take up too much space in Vinco’s line of vision. He was too light and too flirty, voice too sticky-sweet and smiles too forced. “I don’t do movies, but I’m doing this TV show. I’m not allowed to say anything else,” he said, giving the smaller man a terse smile and reaching for his glass. It was only when he brought it to his lips did he realize it was empty.

“Want me to get you another drink, hotshot?” Xavier asked, fingering Vinco’s sideburns

“No, it’s okay,” Vinco said, putting a hand on Xavier’s legs, gently shoving him off. “Excuse me,” he said as he stood up. “You guys want drinks? I’m going to get you some drinks. I’ll be back,” he continued before anyone could say anything. He made his way through the crowd to the bar. He didn’t mean to be rude to Xavier, he just had no idea how to say he didn’t want him on his lap. God, where was Sebastian? Vinco reached the bar. “Hey,” he called. The bartender turned to see him, and flashed him a smile.

Vinco didn’t expect the bartender to look so good.

“Hello, VIP. How are you enjoying the place?” Irfane asked.

 _Why does everybody who works here look so goddamn good?_ Vinco thought, forgetting what he even went to the bar for. “I, uh, drinks,” he lamely stated. Nice.

“Okay. What’re you having?” Irfane asked, setting his hands on the counter. So _this_ was Sebastian’s VIP. Up close he looked like he belonged on an old-school greaser sitcom, with his broad shoulders and rugged appeal.

“I… honestly do not know. What does Pedro usually drink?” Vinco asked, giving up. He really didn’t feel thirsty. He just wanted to know where Sebastian was.

“I’ll take care of it,” Irfane chuckled. “Hey. Are you okay, sir?” he asked, mixing up Pedro’s drink. He knew what the man enjoyed drinking so much that he didn’t have to pay attention to what he was doing anymore.

Vinco bit his lip. “Where’s Sebastian? I, uh, haven’t seen him yet.”

“Seb called in sick earlier,” Irfane replied, pouring the mixed drink into a glass. “He didn’t say anything else about it, but he sounded pretty tired. Can I ask why you’re interested?”

“I was just concerned.”

“I take it Seb’s your favorite?”

“Something like that,” Vinco said, after considering it. “Could you bring Pedro his drink? I’m going out. Cigarette break.”

“No problem.”

Vinco all but ran to the double doors. He sped through the red hallway, where a couple of guys were making out. The bouncer at the first door slightly jumped when he opened the door suddenly, as if he’d been suffocating inside. Vinco jogged up the staircase and onto the sidewalk. He stood there for a while, looking into the night sky, debating whether or not he’d really do what he was thinking of.

If he did, he could get into trouble.

If he didn’t, he’d only keep thinking about it. That would be annoying.

 _Fuck it_ , Vinco thought, crossing the street and turning a corner. He was going to visit Sebastian.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Sebos.”

“No.”

“Drink your soup.”

Sebastian frowned. “It tastes like warm water. It tastes like nothing,” he grumbled, pulling the thick blankets around him. The fever was pretty sudden—since the afternoon, he’d been sneezing like crazy. At first he thought it was an allergy, but his condition worsened as the temperature dropped around sunset. He wrinkled his nose as he looked at the bowl of soup Uffie held.

“You’re only going to get worse if you don’t eat,” Uffie said, sitting on Sebastian’s bed. She scooped up a spoonful and held it out to him. “Come on, it’s going to drip on your sheets if you don’t sip this.”

The man grimaced as he leaned forward to drink the soup. “I can’t taste anything. This sucks,” he complained, making a face.

“You need something warm in yourself,” Uffie said, getting ready to give him another spoonful.

Sebastian laughed wryly. “Ha ha. ‘Something warm in me’. Aha ha.”

“Shut up, you skank,” Uffie giggled. “Here’s another one. Open your mouth.”

“It’s been quite a while since I heard that,” Sebastian said.

“I’m shoving this spoon down your fucking throat,” Uffie laughed. Just as she was about to feed Sebastian, the intercom buzzed.

“Did you order something?” Sebastian asked.

“No, I most certainly didn’t,” Uffie replied, standing up. She set the bowl on a table and went to the living room to answer the buzzing thing. “I think you pressed the wrong bell, we didn’t order anything,” she said into the speaker as she held the button.

“I, uh, I’m not the pizza man,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Is Sebastian there?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” Uffie replied, cautious. It was really late—why would anyone be asking for her roommate?

“It’s Vinco. Vincent. Sebastian knows me?” the voice offered.

“Holy shit!” Uffie screamed, not pressing the button. “Sebastian! Sebos, come quick!”

“Is there a dead body outside our door?” the man drawled, dragging himself from the warmth of his bed. He padded to where the girl was. “What, who is it?”

Uffie smiled deviously at Sebastian as she pressed the button and began to speak again. “Who’d you say you were, again?”

“It’s Vincent.”

Sebastian’s eyes widened in surprise. “ _What the fuck is he doing here?_ ” he hissed, hoping the guy didn’t hear.

“Yeah, Sebos is here, why’d you ask?” Uffie said, trying not to laugh as Sebastian tried to pull her away from the speaker.

“Heard he was sick, so I thought it would be nice to visit?” Vinco said. Outside the main door of the apartment complex, Vinco stood, feeling awkward. “I’m not going to be a creep, I promise.”

Sebastian desperately mouthed “No” at Uffie, who only responded with stifled giggles. “Don’t you dare!” he whispered, pulling her away.

Uffie pressed the button and spoke again. “Sure, come upstairs. Third floor, second room by the stairs. The door has a mat in front.”

“Cool. Thanks.”

“How could you, Uff?” Sebastian said, shaking his head and ignoring the fact that he was blushing like crazy.

“What? He wanted to visit you!” Uffie replied, pushing him back to his room. In a few minutes, someone was knocking on their door. The girl went to answer it, fixing her hair before she opened up.

“Please tell me there’s a Sebastian here,” Vinco said, with a sheepish smile. The one who answered the door was a petite lady, blonde, with a pair of inquisitive brown eyes. When the girl only gave him a once-over, he held up a box. “I brought cupcakes?”

A slow smile spread on Uffie’s lips. “Come in. I’m Uffie, by the way,” she said, shaking the man’s hand.

“I’m Vinco. I know it’s late but I couldn’t help it.”

So _this_ was Sebastian’s VIP. “Do you want me to put that in the kitchen, or…?”

“No, thanks. I want to show Sebastian that I remembered,” Vinco smiled. “Can I see him? Is he okay?”

“He’s down with the sniffles. His fever’s gone down, thankfully,” Uffie commented, leading him to Sebastian’s room.

Vinco looked around the apartment. It was big, bigger than his—no doubt Seb’s work paid a whole lot more than all the odd jobs he’d taken. There were jackets and magazines strewn about the couch. Under a table were two pairs of women’s shoes. One was a bit bigger, probably a size 10, he thought. He looked at Uffie again. _Those must be Sebastian’s_. There were framed paintings and sketches on the walls, the frames in varying sizes. “Seb paints?”

“Those are mine, actually,” Uffie said. “I go to an art school. That’s my best sketch,” she continued, pointing at a medium-sized frame. In it was a pencil sketch of Sebastian looking over his shoulder. The sketch did not look polished, there were heavy lines and scratches of charcoal and lead to suggest the shadows, but it was beautiful. The man’s gaze seemed to pierce from the paper into Vinco’s soul.

“Oh. Nice,” Vinco offered, feeling like he should say more about it, but felt like he would overstep some sort of boundary.

“Thank you.”

God, this was awkward. Vinco bit back the question he so wanted to ask: _Does Sebastian pose nude? And if yes, can I see the portraits?_ He kicked himself mentally. _Get it together, man!_

“He’s in there,” Uffie said, gesturing at a closed door. Before Vinco could get his hand on the door knob, Uffie spoke again. “This is a pretty thin door, so I’ll hear whatever you guys are doing in there,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t try anything.” When Vinco nodded, she left him to open the door.

Vinco found Sebastian curled up on his bed, wrapped in blankets. The room smelled of perfume and soup. It was messy, but a comfortable sort of messy—there was enough organized chaos to let you know that this was someone’s personal space. To a corner of the room was a large closet, its doors partially open. The soft glow of two lamps on either side of Sebastian’s bed got caught in the sheen of some fabric—leather? Silk? Vinco wanted to take a peek, wanted to gather little clues about who his dream man really was, under all of the sequins and heels.

But now was not the time. He slowly walked to the edge of the bed and sat on it. “Seb? Hey, Sebastian?” he muttered, setting the box down on the mattress like an offering.

The Sebastian-lump under the blankets moved, shifting the weight on the bed. He propped himself up on an elbow to look at Vinco. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“The bartender told me you called in sick, so I thought I’d drop by,” Vinco said. He pushed the box towards him. “I brought you cupcakes.”

Sebastian started to blush. He hated the feeling. “These can’t be what I think they are.”

“Take a look.”

“No way.”

“Open the box,” Vinco urged, smiling. When Sebastian sat up fully to pull the box towards him to open it, his smile only got bigger. “I walked by a café. Thank God they sold these kinds.”

Once Sebastian opened the lid of the box, the sweet scent of vanilla and lemon icing wafted into the cold air of the room. “You didn’t have to,” he mumbled, poking a finger to the corner of a vanilla-lemon dollop of cream. He brought his cream-tipped finger to his mouth and sucked on it, moaning at the taste. It tasted just like home, back when his mom baked him a special batch of cupcakes whenever he was sad. “God, that’s good.”

Vinco watched with his mouth partially open as Sebastian sucked his finger. Good God, that man had a mouth on him. He gazed longingly as the other man wrapped his lips around his own finger. Vinco swallowed the saliva that threatened to drip from his mouth, and crossed his legs.

“I can’t believe you’d actually remember,” Sebastian said, picking a cupcake up and taking a bite, running his tongue over his lips to catch any stray frosting.

“How could I forget?”

Sebastian hummed happily as he ate. Somehow the cupcakes brought life back to his taste buds. Good food was better than medicine, for him. “Why are you here, anyway? You’re kind of wasting a free night at the club. Pedro would ask questions.”

Vinco remembered the sensation of having Xavier on his lap. “I’d rather be here than there, right now.” He took off his jacket, noticing how it was warmer in the room than outside. “Where can I put this?”

Sebastian nodded to a chair by the closet. “Throw it there. Your jacket will make it, don’t worry.” When Vinco took his phone out of the jacket pocket, he threw the jacket. It landed on the arm of the chair. “Lucky throw. Anyway, are you sure? Many guys would kill for at least a free night.”

“Trust me, I like my head where it currently is.”

“Huh.” Sebastian finished off one cupcake and reached for another. He looked up at Vinco, who was smiling at him like a puppy. “Want one?” he asked, offering him the cupcake he now held.

Vinco only responded by scooting in closer and opening his mouth.

“Stop dicking around.”

Vinco shook his head, mouth still open. Sebastian sighed and rolled his eyes before moving forward. “Fine. Keep still,” Sebastian muttered, bringing the treat to Vinco’s lips, letting the tips of the icing ghost the man’s lips. Sebastian frowned at how good Vinco looked with his mouth agape, expecting, waiting for something to fill it. He shoved the cupcake rather harshly at the other man’s face.

“What the fuck?” Vinco sputtered, trying not to breathe in through his nose—he didn’t want to inhale a noseful of vanilla-lemon icing. Vinco laughed, wiping the frosting off his nose. “That was fucking rude,” he said, still laughing.

Sebastian just sat there, a cupcake with ruined frosting in one hand, and the other over his mouth. He was blushing like crazy, ears red. “You moved,” he defended, trying to keep a straight face.

Vinco swiped a fingertip on his upper lip and tapped it on Sebastian’s nose, leaving a dot of icing. He smiled at his own handiwork. “Got your nose,” he taunted. To his mild surprise, Sebastian reached over, took a swipe, and made a dot of icing on the corner of his left eyebrow.

“Got your… eyebrow.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Fuck yeah it does,” Sebastian countered, amid trying to keep a smile down.

Vinco dabbed frosting on Sebastian’s cheek. “No, it doesn’t.”

Sebastian took some frosting from the cupcakes in the box and made to take another swipe at the man. He found his fingers going for Vinco’s lips. Before he could stop himself, his fingertips touched the man’s lower lips, gingerly stroking, unsure of what would happen next. “Got your lips.”

Vinco kicked his shoes off and crawled closer to Sebastian, careful not to move too fast, or Sebastian might clam up again, and he did not want to risk this opportunity. He took the box and set it on the nightstand. Sebastian’s fingers still did not leave his lip.

Sebastian continued stroking, as if in a daze, eyes locked on what his fingers were doing. He was going too far now, but no part of him wanted to stop. He smeared icing all over Vinco’s lower lip. He could feel the man’s warm breath on his fingertips. _I am so screwed_.

Vinco moved in closer, getting on his knees and leaning forward. Their faces were so close, he could watch Sebastian’s pupils dilate. He made to kiss the man when he felt a hand on his chest, pushing him away. _Oh, right. The job problem_.

“You might get sick,” Sebastian whispered.

Vinco smiled slowly. “And here I thought you were going to say it was your job again.”

“That, too.”

“Do you want me to leave? I will if you want me to.”

Sebastian didn’t answer. Instead, he eased his hand off Vinco’s chest, and transferred it to the man’s strong shoulder, ushering him in, moving him closer.

Their lips met each other, and nothing felt more right in the world. The taste of Vinco’s mouth combined with the frosting that was still on his lips made Sebastian sigh. The rough brush of stubble scratched at his face, but he was too far gone to care. Sebastian only realized that he’d always wanted this, someone to hold and to kiss and to draw near, and wanted it _bad_. He gripped Vinco’s shoulder; the other hand clutched at his sheets. His heart thundered in his chest.

Vinco, on the other hand, cupped Sebastian’s face in both hands as if he was made of glass. The other man was starting to get antsy, his hand nearly clawing at Vinco’s shoulder. But no. Vinco decided he would take his time with Sebastian. The man was worth every drop of patience, and he deserved all the slow, languid kisses Vinco could offer. His tongue caressed Sebastian’s lips, as if to ask permission to be let in. When Sebastian opened his mouth slightly, and their tongues grazed each other, Vinco couldn’t help but groan. His pants started feeling tighter.

Just when Vinco was planning to move his kisses lower, Sebastian’s eyes shot open. “Wait,” he said, letting go of Vinco.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I do something?” Vinco asked, noticing how Sebastian’s expression looked panic-stricken. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just… We’re too fast.”

“I don’t get it,” Vinco said, furrowing his eyebrows. Before Sebastian could speak again, he continued. “But it’s not you—I’m an idiot, and I don’t get a lot of things. Don’t worry,” he assured. When the other man’s expression still didn’t change, he crawled to the space beside him. “I’m guessing what we just did bothered you.”

Sebastian sighed. “It’s not that. I just… don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want to lose my job, and I don’t know how to deal with… this,” he said, gesturing between them. He looked at Vinco with the saddest eyes. “I’m starting to really like you, Vincent.”

Vinco wiped a little smear of icing on the corner of Sebastian’s lip. “Why does that have to be a problem?”

“It’s going to be a problem if you’re just going to fuck with me.”

Seeing Sebastian in all this honesty and vulnerability made Vinco feel like his heart was breaking. Sometime in Sebastian’s past, somebody must have hurt him, must have broken him so much that feelings now terrified him. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Don’t promise me anything. It’s too soon.” Sebastian leaned against the headboard and brought his knees up.

“What do you want me to do, then?”

“Let’s go slow.”

Vinco smiled. “Whatever you say. Define ‘going slow’, so I know my boundaries.”

Sebastian bit his lip. The taste of frosting and Vinco’s tongue lingered. “Lie back. Don’t take up too much space.”

“I thought we were going slow?” Vinco asked, doing as the man said.

“I’m not going to do anything, dumbass.” Sebastian nestled into the space left, his back facing Vinco. It felt awkward, his bed was not meant to be shared, and the sheets were not enough for the both of them. But it was warm enough, and Vinco smelled nice. The dip he made in Sebastian’s mattress evened the space. All felt well. “Let’s just sleep,” he said, getting settled.

“Do you want me to spoon you?”

“No, I want you to do cartwheels on the bed. Of _course_ , I want you to spoon me,” Sebastian yawned. Behind him he could hear Vinco snicker.

Vinco’s arm circled Sebastian’s waist. This was nice. He could get used to this. “Good night, Sebastian.”

“Good night, Vincent.”

Outside Sebastian’s door, Uffie smiled. From what she heard through the thin wood, Vinco was, indeed, a keeper. “Thank God,” she breathed, before making her way to her own room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, progress is being made. ;)
> 
> Comments are very much appreciated! :D


	8. Secrets and Substitutes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! The holidays have been wild.
> 
> Merry (Late) Christmas! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :D

Vinco woke up with Sebastian pressed against his chest. The other man was facing him now, arms wrapped around him. Vinco smiled and kissed his forehead.

Sebastian stirred at the kiss, eyelids fluttering before fully opening. Waking up to Vinco’s smile made him realize what was really happening. There was none of this he could take back. But he didn’t give a fuck anymore. This moment was perfect, and nothing was going to ruin it for the both of them. “Morning,” he said, returning Vinco’s smile.

“Morning.”

“What time is it?”

Vinco let go and reached over the nightstand, to where his phone was. “It’s 9:36. Still early.” Thumbing over the screen, he saw three missed calls, two from Pedro, one from Bertrand. “Oh, shit.” He’d forgotten to tell them that he went somewhere else after he asked for drinks.

“What’s wrong?”

Vinco rubbed his face. “I forgot to tell Pedro that I was leaving. Man, he must be worried. Shit.”

And there it was, the sudden slap of reality. This was going to be difficult. “I’m sorry,” Sebastian said.

“What are you apologizing for?” Vinco said, putting his phone down.

“I’m making things difficult for you,” Sebastian mumbled.

“What? No, no, Seb, don’t say that,” Vinco shushed, pulling Sebastian close. His hand rubbed his back slowly. “You’re not making things difficult. I’m actually really happy to be here.”

“Really?”

“Really really.”

Sebastian wrinkled his nose in disapproval. “Don’t make Shrek references in my bed.” When Vinco only laughed at him, he buried his nose in the other man’s shirt. “I still don’t know what to do. Pedro can’t know.”

“Ever?”

“Well, he can’t know it _yet_.”

Vinco nodded his head. “I guess we’ll just have to be quiet about this, at least for now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t help it! If your friendship with Pedro gets ruined, people are going to say you gave up a great friend because of a no-good stripper.”

Vinco tilted Sebastian’s head so he was looking into his eyes. “Don’t say things like that, okay? You’re not ‘no-good’. At the moment, you’re worth whatever shit I’m getting from Pedro.” He hugged him again. “Besides, I’ve seen you on that pole. You’re a really great stripper.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sebastian chuckled. Whatever they had going on, it was special. It was going to be hard, he could already tell, but Sebastian decided to make it work. Vincent was sweeter than the cupcakes he brought, and warmer than any hug anyone could offer. Being in his presence like this felt like coming home. They could do this. They could make it work.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Has he answered his phone yet?” Louis asked, or tried to ask, as he brushed his teeth. He spent the night at Pedro’s again, and this time he’d woken up late. Pedro came home worried because, apparently, his friend disappeared from the club after buying them drinks.

Pedro was on the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. He was lying on his stomach, staring at his phone, which lay in front of him. He chewed the inside of his right cheek. “Nope. Not even a text. God, where could he be? And why would he leave without saying anything?”

“Maybe Bertrand knows where he is?”

“Bertrand just texted, he said the bastard’s not answering _his_ calls, either.”

Louis went back to the bathroom to spit. After washing off the remnants of toothpaste, he went back to Pedro. “Look, don’t worry. Maybe his phone just died or something. Let’s not jump to conclusions, you’ll only make yourself feel bad.”

“I hope he’s okay.”

“He is. Don’t worry.” Louis kissed the wrinkle between Pedro’s eyebrows, hoping to smooth it down. He stood up and took his keys from a table by the door. “I need to go, I’m super late. Walk me out?”

Pedro nodded and followed his boyfriend out of the bedroom and into the living room. He opened the door for him. “Be careful.”

“I will. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Louis,” Pedro replied, forcing a little smile.

“Okay. I’ll be back at six, I guess.” He opened the door. “I love you.”

Pedro took a step forward, took Louis’s face into his hands, and kissed him. He couldn’t say it, not yet. It would be fake and the other man would notice it, and the situation would be more fucked up than it already was to begin with. So he kissed him instead, and tried to put all of his heart into the kiss, even though both of them knew that was impossible. “Have a good day, Louis,” he said as he let go.

Louis gave him a sad smile, a smile that said he understood. “Thank you. I love you anyway.” And he turned around and left.

Once he was gone, Pedro closed the door. He walked back to his room and let himself fall on the bed, wishing his pillows would suffocate him because he felt like absolute _shit_. He felt his phone under his shin, and went to get it. Checking for nothing, he swiped the screen and unlocked it. Through the glass, he saw his wallpaper, a selfie he and Louis took. Louis was smiling as if the world was a gift and it was just for him, arm around Pedro’s shoulder. Pedro looked at his own face in the picture and hated how his smile only stayed on his lips. He couldn’t even give his boyfriend a genuine smile. Tears started to sting his eyes. He gripped his phone and felt the strong urge to fling it across the room, but he resisted it. If Louis saw the dent in the wall, and the would-be ruined phone, there would be questions, and he couldn’t bear being coddled by Louis over his own instability.

Swallowing back an urge to cry, Pedro slipped the phone under his pillow. He hadn’t slept since 3 a.m., and his chest was already getting too heavy for him to breathe. He closed his eyes and let the tears that dripped out seep into the pillowcase. He hoped to dream his guilt away, dream all of it far away, where it would not return to haunt him.

 

♥♥♥

 

“I’m a TV star, Seb,” Vinco said against Sebastian’s hair. The two had spent most of their morning in Sebastian’s bed, just cuddling and talking about random things. It was only then when Vinco remembered that he was the only person he hadn’t told about his latest acting gig yet.

“The urge to kick you out of my bed is getting stronger, Vincent,” Sebastian dryly said, a hand on Vinco’s chest.

“I’m serious!” Vinco sat up, making Sebastian grunt—his head was nestled on Vinco’s shoulder. “I’m going to play an undead zombie named Kavinsky.”

Sebastian pulled Vinco back down again. “‘Undead’ and ‘zombie’ is redundant, you dork.”

“I’m going to keep saying that until you believe me.”

Sebastian laughed. “Who’s directing it, then?”

“Quentin Dupieux. He’s a weird, angry old man, but he’s really cool,” Vinco mused. “Which reminds me—I have a reading today, holy shit.”

“What time?”

“After lunch.”

Sebastian sighed. “Five more minutes,” he groaned, arms around Vinco’s waist. “I don’t want to go to work today,” he murmured, after a stretch of silence.

“Why not?”

Sebastian just shrugged. “I just don’t feel like dancing for anyone else tonight.”

Just as they were about to kiss, Uffie knocked on Sebastian’s door. “Sebos, do you still want breakfast? Or are you busy eating something else right now? I’m going to class in a bit.”

Sebastian’s face heated up, his eyes going wide. Vinco laughed and untangled himself from Sebastian’s arms. “Good morning, Uffie,” he said as he opened the door.

“Morning. Please tell me my roommate’s not naked in there,” Uffie deadpanned, hands on her tiny hips.

“He’s fully clothed,” Vinco nodded, feeling awkward and remembering that he spent the night at their apartment on pretty short notice.

“So,” Uffie said, nodding as well.

Vinco shoved his hands in his pockets. “…Yup.”

After a good minute of the two of them just exchanging wordless nods and pursed smiles, Vinco spoke quickly. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

“Good, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Uffie replied, just as quickly, picking up on how uncomfortable the entire situation was getting.

Vinco closed the door once the girl was gone. “I’m guessing your roomie wants answers,” he said, still leaning on the door.

Sebastian grimaced and sat up. “Yeah, I guess she does.”

“We’d better go.”

“Yeah, that’s… yeah.” Sebastian stood up and took Vinco’s hand as they headed for the kitchen. The scent of eggs and bacon greeted them as they got there. “Hey, Uff,” Sebastian offered, feeling embarrassed.

Uffie smiled deviously at Sebastian. “Good morning, Sebos. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, I really did,” the man replied, avoiding his best friend’s prying eyes.

“Good. Have a seat.”

The three sat down and started eating. Uffie sipped from her orange juice. “So, Vincent.”

“Call me Vinco, please.”

“Okay then. Vinco?”

“Yes?”

“Where’d you come from, last night? I mean, it was pretty late for you to come over—”

“ _Uffie_ ,” Sebastian cut in, pausing from forking bacon into his mouth.

“No, like it was really late. And you looked really good last night. Where did you come from?” Uffie continued.

“I, uh, I was from the club.”

“Which club?”

“Pedro’s. Ed Banger.”

“I see. How’d you know Sebos was sick again?”

Vinco took a bite of the scrambled eggs. “I noticed he wasn’t… at work—”

“You mean up onstage, shaking his _thang_?” Uffie smirked, exaggerating the last word.

“ _Oh, my god!_ ” Sebastian exclaimed, covering his face. “Uffie! Can we not?”

“What? That’s really what you do!” The girl turned to Vinco and pointed at him with her fork. “Doesn’t Sebos shake his thing every night?”

Vinco was about to answer when Sebastian when the other man kicked his shin under the table. “Ow, Seb!”

“Don’t you dare answer that.”

“But you do!”

“Thank you for answering the question,” Uffie said, raising her glass to Vinco. “Next question: what do you do?”

Vinco rubbed his kicked shin. “What do I do?”

“I mean aside from my roommate.”

“ _Jesus Christ!_ ” Sebastian said, slumping forward.

“Oh, no, we didn’t… We didn’t have sex yet,” Vinco said, trying to back Sebastian up.

 “‘ _Yet_ ’ _!_ ” Sebastian gasped, incredulous that this conversation was even happening in the first place.

“But you want to, though?” Uffie asked.

Vinco looked at Sebastian, who was slowly shaking his head at him, eyes wide. “Well, yeah, of course. If he allows it.”

“That’s it,” Sebastian said, raising his hands in surrender and standing up. “I cannot deal with the two of you together. If anyone wants to apologize, I’m taking a shower.”

“Is that an invitation?” Vinco called as Sebastian left the table.

“Fuck off, Vincent.”

Vinco chuckled and went back to his breakfast.

“Let’s talk about serious shit, now that Sebos is gone. God knows he’ll never allow me to talk about his feelings when you’re around.” Uffie drummed her fingers on the table. “Got a smoke?”

“I have a pack in my jacket, let me go get it,” Vinco said, starting to stand up.

Uffie waved the offer away. “You don’t have to. I think there’s still a pack in that drawer.”

Vinco stood and checked the drawers until he found the one Uffie referred to. He took the pack and a box of matches. He took a cigarette out and pushed the pack across the table towards the girl.

Uffie lit hers and blew out a puff of smoke. “Sebos told me you dreamed about him?”

Vinco took the box of matches, lit his cigarette, and inhaled. The nicotine rush relaxed him, and he exhaled. “I did.”

“Mind telling me more about that?”

“It was around a few weeks ago,” Vinco said, “when the dreams started. I thought it was just random, you know? We all see strangers in our dreams. Some people say they’re the people we see every day, we just don’t notice.” He took another drag. “But it became… constant. Seb was always there. Back then I didn’t know who he was. It bothered me a bit, but I got used to it, and I ended up being curious. I bumped into him at a laundry shop.”

“And the rest is history, huh,” Uffie commented. She flicked some ash onto the table. “Look, I know you like my friend—who wouldn’t? He’s perfect. But I’ve got to know: are you serious about this? About him?” Uffie pegged Vinco with a hard stare. “Because I heard you last night, and Sebos deserves nothing less than the best. I know not everyone can give anyone that, but I have to know that you’re not fucking around with him to sate whatever weird fantasy you may have about being with a stripper.” She put the cigarette between her lips again. “He’s been through enough shit. I need to know that you won’t hurt him on purpose.”

Vinco wrinkled his brow. “Only on purpose?”

“It’s a relationship. Wherever feelings are involved, we can’t help but hurt each other by accident. It happens,” Uffie stated. “Hurting someone on purpose means you thought about it. You intended for that other person to hurt. It’s an obvious thing that a lot of people seem to overlook.”

Vinco leaned back in his chair and thought about what Uffie had said. He remembered his past relationships and saw that what she said made absolute sense. He took another drag and blew it out, watching the smoke fade up into the ceiling. “You’re very smart, Uffie.”

“I’m a girl. All girls are,” she smiled. “Vinco, please don’t hurt my best friend.”

“I would never dream of it,” he nodded, glad that he was slowly gaining the girl’s trust.

“If that’s a pun, I am going to fucking hit you,” Uffie said, making Vinco laugh. “Just don’t make any promises you can’t keep, Vinco. Okay? Don’t promise Sebos things you can’t give him.”

“Fucking around with Seb is the last thing I’ll ever do,” Vinco said in a serious tone. “I don’t know what it is, but being with him feels right. I would never mess with him.”

“Do you really like him? Seriously like him?”

“Yes, I do. I’m sure.”

Uffie took a final inhale on her cigarette. “Good.”

The two heard the bathroom door open and close. The fresh, sharp scent of soap wafted through the kitchen as Sebastian scuttled by, rushing to get to his bedroom without being seen by Vinco in only a towel. Uffie stood up and stubbed her cigarette out on the placemat. “Well, I’m probably late. Great meeting you, Vinco,” she smiled. “Take care of Sebos, you hear?”

Vinco nodded. He stood and followed the girl to the door.

“Sebos, I’m going!” Uffie yelled, putting on her coat. “Lock the door when you guys leave.”

“Be careful!” Sebastian called through his door.

“I might still have spare condoms in my room, if you need it,” she yelled out again, just to see how her friend would respond. Vinco coughed.

“ _I hope you step on dog shit_ ,” Sebastian shouted.

“I love you too!” Uffie laughed before leaving. Vinco closed the door behind her, and went to Sebastian’s door. He knocked before he spoke. “Hey, Seb?”

“Hold on, I’m changing.” In a few minutes, Sebastian opened the door to him. His hair was still wet, and his skin still flushed from the steam in the shower. “I am so sorry about Uffie, she’s really inappropriate sometimes,” he said, biting his lip.

Vinco came into the room and sat on the bed. “It’s fine. She’s pretty smart.”

“What’d you guys talk about?”

“Me,” Vinco lied. Sebastian might feel uncomfortable if he told him the truth, so he kept his mouth shut. “She basically interrogated me.”

“What was that like?”

“Like being interrogated by a cute cat. A cute, dangerous cat,” Vinco replied, lying back. “A cat that could probably claw my eyes out if she wanted to.”

Sebastian laughed as he walked about, tidying up. “That’s Uffie, all right.” He took Vinco’s jacket and turned to him slowly. “Can I keep this?”

“What?” When Sebastian didn’t tell him what he was talking about, he sat back up. “Oh, that.” Sebastian was clutching his slightly-wrinkled jacket like it was a teddy bear, rocking side to side, giving him babydoll eyes. His cock twitched in his pants. Sebastian had this much power over him _fully clothed_ , in day clothes with uncombed hair and no makeup. God, he was in so much trouble now. “As much as I’d like to see you wearing it with next to nothing else, you can’t have it,” Vinco said, giving Sebastian a lopsided smile. “Pouting’s not going to do anything.”

“Please? It’s so soft. And it smells great,” Sebastian said, hugging the jacket to his face and smelling it. “What if I get cold?”

“You can’t even wear it at the club, Pedro would find out.”

“Pedro won’t find out. It’s just a jacket,” Sebastian said, shrugging his arms into the sleeves of Vinco’s jacket.

“Trust me, he will.”

“Pedro has an eye for detail, but I don’t think he’ll notice that I’m wearing your suit jacket whenever I take a break,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror.

“He will, because he bought me that,” Vinco said.

“Your best friend buys you clothes?”

 _Oh, shit_. He was not supposed to let Seb know that. He was supposed to be a rich guy until he was actually, well, rich. It would be weeks, months, even, until he gets his first paycheck—right now, he had to still act as the loaded Mister Vincent, the best friend of one of the richest men in Paris. Goddammit. “It was one time. And who am I to say no to Pedro?” Vinco said, putting on a smile. “That man has amazing taste in clothes.”

Sebastian shrugged. They were best friends, after all. “So can I have it?”

“No. Come here.”

Sebastian went to Vinco on the bed and stood over him, Vinco’s knees between Sebastian’s legs. “You look great lying on your back like that,” he muttered.

Vinco crooked a finger at the other man, beckoning for him to lean down towards him. When Sebastian did as he asked, he sighed. “What time is it?”

“Last I checked it was nearly eleven. What we had was brunch with Uffie, actually.”

“Mmm. We still have time until I need to leave, don’t we?” Vinco asked, play-innocently as Sebastian started to kiss his neck.

“I don’t think so,” Sebastian said, smiling as he pecked and nipped at the man’s neck. “I wouldn’t want you to be late to your reading thing.”

“Maybe we can spend a few minutes for whatever we can do?” Vinco suggested, hoping that Seb wasn’t going to stop. “Forty-five minutes is enough, right?”

Sebastian laughed and stopped what he was doing, and got off of Vinco.

“You’re cruel,” Vinco groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“I’m sensible. You need to go home and take a bath, and go be Coco Calypso or something,” Sebastian said. He slapped the man’s thigh. “Come on, get up.”

“It’s Kavinsky, not Coco Calypso,” Vinco replied, propping himself up on his elbows. “And for your information, I’ve been up since you started giving me googly eyes over the jacket,” he added, still leaning back on his elbows, a finger pointing to his crotch.

“I swear I’ll step on that if you don’t get off my bed.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“I swear to God, Vincent,” Sebastian said, rolling his eyes. “Come on, you dirty old man. Let’s get you home.”

“You’re such a tease, Seb,” Vinco whined.

“Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Xavier moaned in pain in his seat backstage, an arm over his eyes. He had his leg stretched out onto Thibaut’s lap, hissing and biting his lip as the other man put a Ziploc full of ice over his swollen ankle. When Thibaut made a slight move to adjust his foot to remove his glittered pumps, Xavier whipped his hand off and shot him a glare. “What the actual _fuck_ , Thibaut, what part of ‘be careful’ did you not understand?” he snapped. He could feel pain shoot up his leg with every twitch, and he knew throwing tantrums wouldn’t help anything, but sitting helpless like a child made him so mad.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop,” Thibaut said. His hands recoiled from Xavier’s leg as if it was a viper. The Ziploc slipped off the man’s ankle and landed on the floor with a wet thud. “I’m going to lift your leg a bit, okay?” he warned. “I need to remove your shoe and put the ice bag on it again.”

Xavier groaned. “Fuck. Do it,” he nodded. When Thibaut held his heel in one hand and tried to slip the shoe off, Xavier put his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckles. He squeezed his eyes shut, paying no mind to the fact that his eyeliner would probably be ruined after this, and sucked in breaths through his bared teeth. Once the shoe was off, and he felt the bite of ice on his ankle again, he opened his eyes and released his knuckles.

Gaspard walked in through the curtained entrance, concerned. “What happened?” he asked, frowning. He trained his eyes first on Thibaut, who looked back with a terrified expression. “Thibaut?”

“I was warming up, and I slipped, that’s it,” Xavier said before Thibaut could open his mouth. He looked at Thibaut pointedly, who got the hint and attended to his foot.

“I didn’t ask you, I asked Thibaut,” Gaspard said.

“He slipped onstage,” Thibaut mumbled, seeing how Xavier nodded slightly from the corner of his eye.

Gaspard was not satisfied with the man’s answer. He knelt down beside Xavier’s chair and kissed him. After tasting the familiar, warm sourness left over in Xavier’s mouth, he frowned and let go. “You’ve been drinking again.”

“It was just a few cups of whisky,” Xavier said as he rolled his eyes, waving a hand in the air.

“How many times have I told you not to drink and dance?”

“I’m not a goddamned lightweight, Gaspard, don’t treat me like a child.”

“This is not about treating you like a child, this is about your safety,” Gaspard countered, an edge in his voice. He stood up. “I’m going to call Pedro.”

“Babe, you don’t have to do that,” Xavier reasoned. If Pedro found out about this, he would be screwed.

“I can’t deal with you right now, Xavier.” With that, Gaspard walked out of the dressing room. Xavier felt his cheeks getting hot.

Thibaut wished he could shrink himself away. A frustrated, in-pain Xavier so near him was a red flag. He wanted to leave the room and the whole situation to the people who could _really_ handle it, but Xavier’s sprained foot was in his lap, and there was literally nothing he could do but sit still.

In minutes, Pedro and Gaspard walked back in. “Jesus, Xavier, what happened?” Pedro asked, stooping down to see Xavier’s foot.

“He was drinking while warming up,” Gaspard stated with an accusing tone.

Pedro clicked his tongue. “Xavier, you _know_ you’re not supposed to do that,” he said. “You’re not performing tonight. You have to get that checked.”

“At least let me entertain guests at tables!” Xavier said, voice raised.

“No. I’m calling a cab, Gaspard’s going to take you home and he will watch over you.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Yes I can, I’m your _boss_ ,” Pedro pressed. “Gaspard, you have the night off. Make sure he stays away from drinks.” He rubbed his face. Jesus, as if his day wasn’t already fucked up as it was. This morning had the ‘I love you’ incident with Louis. An hour ago, one of the filler dancers had spilled an energy drink on Bertrand’s laptop, causing it to shut down. Bertrand assured them it was all right, and that he’d thought about buying a new one anyway, but the problem was finding another one to use for the sound system. They ended up using his own laptop, the songs plugged in through a flash drive.

And now, _this_. His star dancer had a sprained ankle because he did warm-ups with a few drinks in him. Fantastic. “Do you need any help getting him to the entrance?”

Gaspard shook his head. “I’ll carry him out.” He gave Xavier a disappointed look and went to get Xavier’s things, stuffing his phone and lip balm into a messenger bag. He slung the strap around him and went to Xavier. “I’m going to do this quickly. Brace yourself.”

Xavier gave a startled cry as Gaspard picked him up bridal-style, almost with no effort. The sudden movement made his foot sting with pain again, and he clung to Gaspard’s shoulders with a curse.

“I’ll get you guys a cab,” Pedro said, walking ahead and pulling the curtain out of the way to let them through. The three walked out of the dressing room and made their way to the main entrance of the club. Xavier shifted uncomfortably in Gaspard’s arms, making little noises at the pain.

The three stood silently on the sidewalk as they waited for a cab to pass by. Xavier looked up at Gaspard. “Gaspard?”

Gaspard did not even look at him. He just looked straight ahead onto the road.

“Cold night, isn’t it?” Pedro said, attempting to lighten the mood. A fight was obviously brewing between the two. He only had the best intentions. When neither of the two answered, he pursed his lips and kept quiet. Soon a cab passed by them and stopped. Pedro held the door open for Gaspard to hoist Xavier into the back seat. Before Gaspard slipped into the front seat, Pedro held his shoulder. “Take care of him, Gaspard.”

“I’ll try,” Gaspard said.

“Please don’t give up on him. Something’s bugging Xavier, that’s why he’s been acting this way.”

“Pedro, now’s not the time for a lecture. I know Xavier. I don’t need you to tell me that,” Gaspard answered, matter-of-factly. He knew he sounded mean, but he was not in the best mood, and even though Pedro’s intentions were well, he just didn’t need this right now.

“I was just trying to help—”

Gaspard sat in the passenger’s seat. He looked up at Pedro before he shut the door. “You’re not exactly the poster child for perfect relationships, Pedro. Thanks anyway.” With that, Gaspard closed the door, and the cab sped away.

Pedro stood alone on the sidewalk, feeling as if he’d been punched in the gut. Gaspard’s cutting remark left him speechless. He exhaled loudly, trying to breathe all the heaviness out, but to no avail. He groped around in his pockets for a cigarette, but there was nothing but lint. He stormed back into Ed Banger and headed to the bar. “Vodka, neat,” he said to Irfane, who was stacking bottles behind the counter.

“All right, but are you okay?” Irfane asked. “Pedro?”

“Just give me my drink, please.”

Irfane raised his eyebrows and did as he was told. When he pushed the glass towards his boss, it was quickly picked up, emptied, and shoved right back.

“One more.”

“Pedro, slow down, you don’t shoot vodka—”

“ _Please_.”

Out of pity, Irfane complied. “Fine. But once you’re three glasses in, I’m going to have to stop you. The club hasn’t even opened yet.”

Pedro only _hmm_ -ed his response. After he finished his final glass, he went to the dressing room, where Thibaut and the girls were cleaning up. “Thibaut, could you do me a favor?” he called, the heat of alcohol running in his veins.

Thibaut set the broom he was holding against the wall. “What is it? Is Xavier going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

“That’s good. But who’s going to take over his spot? I heard he was going to entertain some big entrepreneur tonight,” Thibaut said.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Do you want me to make a call to tell him to cancel this evening’s schedule?”

Pedro rubbed his temples. This was a risk he was going to have to take. Business couldn’t handle one canceled table session. “No. I actually wanted to ask you to take Xavier’s place.”

The room went quiet. Marie and Maria stopped working. Thibaut stopped breathing.

“Thibaut?”

Thibaut stared at Pedro as if he’d grown antlers. Was this happening? Was Pedro, a sane, pretty intelligent man, asking _him_ to take Xavier ‘The Diva’ de Rosnay’s place on a rich man’s lap?

“Thibaut, breathe.”

The man exhaled slowly. “Me?” he stammered. “But I don’t dance.”

“You won’t have to dance, you just have to sit on the guy’s lap and talk to him. Act sweet. Be yourself.”

“But—”

“Are you and Xavier the same size?”

“Nearly—”

“ _Good_. Can you walk in heels?”

“A little bit, but Pedro—”

“Then you can do this!”

“B-but I _can’t_ ,” Thibaut pressed, feeling panic rising up his throat. “I’m not interesting, and I’m not even cute, and I don’t have any clothes. What’ll I say? How-how will I react to what he says? What if he asks me questions about the club, or the weather, or business, or something else? Pedro, I _can’t_.”

Pedro set his hands on the man’s shoulders. “Thibaut, please. You’re the only hope I have right now. Do it for me. Do me this kindness. I need you right now. Please help me.”

Thibaut was still in shock. Why would Pedro even consider him taking Xavier’s place? “I… I don’t know,” he trailed, apprehensive of the whole situation. He loved Pedro and he really wanted to help him, but he couldn’t handle being the one to blame if an important client ended up not coming back because of a boring conversation. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can, Thibaut. All you have to do is to sit on his lap, and agree with whatever he says. Please? This is really important. Do it for the club.”

“What if Irfane doesn’t… agree with it?”

“I’ll talk to him if you say yes, I _promise_ ,” Pedro said. He had one foot in this door. He had to assure Thibaut or else he’d have to cancel. Losing the favor of a client would be the perfect cherry to this already screwed-up day, and he would rather eat shit than let that happen. “I’ll take care of it.”

Thibaut looked at the girls, who were behind him, listening to the conversation. They, like Pedro, looked at him with expecting eyes. He’d always waited for an opportunity to _not_ be the underdog—maybe this was it. He turned back to Pedro and took a deep breath. “All right. It’s just talking, right? I won’t have to get on the stage?”

Pedro hugged Thibaut and kissed his cheeks. “Thank you so much, Thibaut!” He let go and turned him around, so both of them were facing Marie and Maria. “Let the girls take care of you. I’ll talk to Irfane.” He referred to the girls. “Ladies, I expect Thibaut to look delicious. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you.”

All Thibaut could do was gulp. This was going to feel bizarre, he could tell. But looking at the light-lined mirrors and the tables littered with palettes of eyeshadows and bottles of perfume, he couldn’t deny that deep down, he felt a bit excited. As Pedro left and the girls scurried about to find him the right costume, Thibaut walked to a chair and sat down slowly, gazing at himself in the mirror. This was the first (and probably the last) time he was finally going to be part of the dirty, expensive, glittery-glamorous world that was Ed Banger. In these moments, he would not be backstage, he would be out there soon enough. The possibilities were endless, and it scared Thibaut.

On the other hand, it was a thought that wildly excited him. He smiled at his reflection.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are highly appreciated. UvU


	9. Tipping Points

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the ninth chapter! Sorry for the late update ; A;
> 
> Also I love all of you for sticking with this story bless your hearts asdfghj
> 
> ENJOOOOOY

Thibaut could hear his heart in his ears as Marie and Maria milled about around him, hands full of palettes and tubes and brushes plucked from the tables of the other dancers. He watched as the two threw him discerning looks as they rifled through Xavier’s rack of costumes, pulling out sparkly little dresses and skirts—they held the clothes up in his direction, eyes focusing on the garments, and then on him, and the garments again. When they were not satisfied, they put the clothes back on the rack, and the whole cycle began again.

“Thibaut, relax. You look like you’re going to a death match,” Marie said as she lay the makeup she had on the table in front of Thibaut.

“I can’t help it,” Thibaut said, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. “This is my first time out there.” He looked at himself in the mirror. “I’ve always worked backstage.”

“Then smile! It’s your first time in the spotlight,” Maria quipped, looking through the shoes. “Did you say you could walk in heels?”

“Yes, a little.”

“By a ‘little’, do you mean you can walk well in them, but you’re not used to walking in them in public, or…?” Maria asked.

“Yeah, that,” Thibaut mumbled. “And why would I even want to wear heels all the time? It’s not like I’m, you know, a dancer.”

“Where’d you learn to walk in heels anyway?”

An evening of debauchery in a hotel room flashed in Thibaut’s mind. He and Irfane were celebrating something—it wasn’t an anniversary, but it was important—and he bought customized stilettos from an online shop. He remembered putting the shoes on in the bathroom of the suite before going out to meet his boyfriend wearing nothing else, blushing but every bit horny and willing to try something new. Marks were left on both their bodies after that night, but the most memorable were the blisters on Thibaut’s feet. The blisters signified his power over his boyfriend, such commanding force concentrated in pencil-thin sticks under his feet. Whenever he wanted to feel special again, he would take the inky black pair out if its box and walk around their apartment in them.

But the girls couldn’t know that. “I have cousins who visit and sometimes leave their shoes at my place. Sometimes I put them on and walk around,” Thibaut mumbled.

Marie shrugged. “What’s your size?”

“Ten-half, maybe eleven.”

“Your cousins have really big feet, huh.”

Thibaut only nodded in response.

Marie turned Thibaut’s chair around and tilted his chin up. Thibaut had a thick, neatly-trimmed beard, which meant dark lipstick was out of the question. What he _did_ have were beautiful blue eyes—eyes that looked so kind, and so forgiving. They could play with the waifish, innocent character with Thibaut. “Maria, fetch me an all-white costume. Something sweet, but not too cutesy.”

Maria fished out a high-waisted, white leather skater skirt. In her other hand was a hanger that held a tiny tulle petticoat, also white, but in the lights of the dressing room it glittered with remnants of Xavier’s “theater sparkles”. She giggled and held the clothes in her arm as she searched for a suitable top.

Thibaut’s eyes widened. “I’ve never worn a skirt in public before. Not that I haven’t worn skirts ever, I mean…”

“Hey, don’t ask, don’t tell,” Marie said as she wiped a baby wipe over Thibaut’s flushed face. “Are you ready?”

“Y-Yes,” Thibaut said, nodding and smiling. This was really happening.

Marie pushed Thibaut’s long hair away from from his face. “We’re going to turn you into an angel.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Sebastian walked into Ed Banger with a spring in his step. He smiled to himself and greeted everyone he passed by. “Hey there, cutie,” he said as he sat on a barstool, startling Irfane.

“Looks like someone woke up on the good side of the bed!” Irfane said, smiling. “Shouldn’t you be getting dressed? You came in pretty late, it’s only an hour until we open.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Sebastian replied. “Hey, how’s Pedro? I heard he was worried sick because Vincent bailed on him last night. Is he okay?”

“First-name basis with the VIP, wow,” Irfane commented, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m just being polite! And he asked me to call him that. Now, back to Pedro.”

“He was here earlier. I think he’s not okay.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he came in here and asked for three glasses of vodka, and he drank it like it was tequila.” Irfane put his hands on his hips and sighed. He had high hopes for Pedro’s relationship, but it was obvious he and Louis were not working out. Everyday, his boss looked sadder and sadder. No matter how hard he tried, he probably still hadn’t moved on from the last boyfriend he had. “It must be problems with Louis, I guess.”

“That can’t be it, Louis _adores_ Pedro,” Sebastian said, making a face. “If Pedro asked him, Louis would probably buy him the moon. That guy’s too nice to hurt him.”

“If Pedro doesn’t want Louis as much, the relationship’s going to have problems,” Irfane said, matter-of-factly. “Sometimes, even the best kind of love doesn’t matter if the other person’s not having it. And I think Pedro’s not having it.”

Sebastian fell silent. Louis already seemed like a prince, complete with the looks and the attitude and the _actual_ , genuine feelings—hell, he was also pretty well-off. He was basically the type of partner anyone would be proud of, the type you’d bring home to eat dinner with your parents. It was obvious that he was really smitten with Pedro, who was equally kind and, well, the epitome of a great person. They were perfect together. How could something so perfect be the reason for someone’s misery? “But they’re perfect…” he trailed as he thought of his… thing with Vincent. What if that was the future for them? He and Vincent weren’t really picture-perfect themselves, let alone what they currently had going on. If something as seemingly perfect as Louis and Pedro’s relationship could go to shit, who’s to say what’s in store for his and Vincent’s?

“Well, ‘perfect’ isn’t going to save this relationship,” Irfane shrugged. “Hey, enough of this. You’re already late enough—go change, before Pedro catches you.”

Sebastian got off the bar stool and went to the dressing room. Once he stepped through the thick curtains, he gave a startled shout. “What the _fuck_ is going on?”

In front of him was Thibaut, eyes wide and lined with baby-doll lashes and winged eyeliner. He was dressed in an oversized cream-colored sweater, the loose neckline hovering just beneath his collarbones, and a white leather skater skirt that looked all too familiar. Around his neck was a white satin choker, with a little silver heart charm for its pendant. On his skinny legs were white thigh-high socks and black pumps. He looked like a gangly, bearded schoolgirl who was hopelessly, _badly_ , lost. “What’s going on?” Sebastian asked, still shocked at how Thibaut was dressed.

“Pedro asked Thibaut to fill in for Xavier tonight,” Marie commented, returning the makeup she took from Xavier’s table.

“What? What happened to the little monkey?” Sebastian asked without taking his eyes off the other man, who was pulling his skirt down over his ass.

“He hurt himself while he was warming up earlier. Gaspard’s also off for the night,” Maria said. “So? How does he look?”

 _Karma is sweet as candy tonight_ , Sebastian thought. “He looks really cute, actually. A bit too sweet for my taste, but it fits him.” He reached out and grabbed Thibaut’s hands. “Stop pulling it down, it’s _supposed_ to show off your ass.”

Thibaut stopped fiddling with his skirt, and brought his hands up to the ends of his hair, to fiddle with them instead.

“We went with a sweeter look. Thibaut in leather and fishnets would look too forced,” Marie said, taking a seat.

“Good call. Stop hunching over, you’ll look like you’re drunk or something,” Sebastian said to Thibaut. When Thibaut did as he was told, Sebastian nodded. He put his bag down and got to work on his own look for the night. He went to his table and kicked his shoes off.

“H-how are you feeling?” Thibaut asked, walking closer to where Sebastian was starting to undress.

“What? Oh, right. I’m feeling better now, thanks,” Sebastian answered. The previous night flashed in his mind, the thoughts of Vinco’s face drifted in vignettes. The feeling of his kisses still lingered on Sebastian’s lips and neck. “So much better,” he continued, hanging his black jeans over a chair. He went to his rack of costumes and plucked a black lace robe, and put it around his shoulders. He swept a baby wipe over his face to get rid of oil, and started to work on his face. From the corner of his eye he could see Thibaut, still standing by his table. “Don’t freak out. Just relax and talk to the client,” he said, eyes trained on his reflection as he dabbed concealer under his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do, to be honest,” Thibaut mumbled. “What if he won’t like me?”

Sebastian turned in his seat and looked up at the other man. “He _paid_ to be here. Trust me, he’ll like whoever Pedro puts in his lap. Relax.”

“But he booked Xavier. I’m not Xavier, I’m not as hot as he is, and—”

“And that’s totally okay,” Sebastian interrupted. “Look at yourself,” he said, gesturing at Thibaut with a makeup brush. “You look like a slice of angel cake. Any man who refuses you tonight is either really dumb, or really blind. Now chill, all right?”

Thibaut blushed at how nice Sebastian was being. He always was polite with him, but he never gave compliments directly like this. Something good must have happened during the day that made him change the way he usually acted. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome.” Sebastian went back to looking into the mirror. “What’d Irfane say about this whole thing anyway? Does he know?”

“Hopefully yes. Pedro said he’d explain the whole thing to him. I hope Irfane doesn’t get mad.”

“Don’t worry,” Sebastian drawled, drawing a thick line on his eyelid. “Pedro’s good with words. He’ll make Irfane say yes.”

 

♥♥♥

 

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?!” Irfane exclaimed, making Pedro flinch. “How could you do this to me, Pedro? To Thibaut? To _us_? What the fuck, man?”

Pedro scrambled to calm Irfane down. He already lost two star dancers for the night—he can’t lose his head bartender, too. “Easy, easy! He’s just going to sit in the client’s lap—”

“In his _lap_?!”

“—and he’ll just talk to him, butter him up, seal an investment deal! That’s it. I promise. Thibaut will not come near the stage.”

“Pedro, what did you do to him that he actually _allowed_ himself to get roped into this?” Irfane asked, fuming. He could not believe this. His boyfriend of four years was going to be in another man’s lap for an amount of cash in a few hours. “I swear, if you _bribed_ my boyfriend, I’m going to—”

“Irfane, calm down! Chill. I’ll tell you what happened, but only if you calm down.” Once the man calmed down (which was a relief, his hand was inching a little too close to the corkscrews), Pedro took a deep breath. “I explained the situation to him, I told him that it would be a really big deal if he took Xavier’s place for _just one night_ , and he had the option to say no. That’s it.”

Irfane frowned at Pedro. “You told him he could say no?”

“More or less.”

“And he still said yes?”

“He even asked me what he was supposed to say,” Pedro said, shrugging. “I won’t let anything happen to Thibaut, you know that. And you should be proud of him!”

“For what, volunteering to get pawed at by some stranger?” Irfane asked, temper flaring again.

“For being a team player! He took one for the team and took Xavier’s place, saving a would-be investment. If that isn’t noble in your book, then I don’t know what is,” Pedro said. “The girls are taking care of him. Don’t worry.”

Irfane ground his molars together and squinted at Pedro. “I’m not forgetting this, Pedro.”

“It’s for the sake of the club.”

The man could only roll his eyes. “I’m not consenting to this. At all. But if this is what it takes to make this club a better one, then fine,” Irfane said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I just don’t want my boyfriend parading his ass in some skimpy outfit.”

“I told you—the girls are taking care of it.”

Then, as if on cue, Thibaut emerged from the dressing room exit onstage, in a white sweater, sparkles, and a leather skirt that left too little to the imagination. He walked onstage carefully, tottering in heels that were a bit too high for what he could manage. Once he reached the pole at the edge of the catwalk, he gripped it and gave Irfane a shy smile. Irfane left the bar and jogged to the stage.

“Hi,” Thibaut said, voice like a whisper. “How do I look? Good?”

“Baby, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”

Thibaut’s heart sank a little. “You didn’t answer my question. Don’t I look good?”

Irfane reached out and stroked Thibaut’s leg through the thigh-highs. “No, you look amazing, I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“Don’t worry. I want to do this,” Thibaut assured, nodding his head. “I just really want to help Pedro.”

“Fine,” Irfane sighed. “Whatever you want to do, I’m all for it. Get down from there,” he said, motioning for Thibaut to get off the stage. “You might need a pre-show drink. Careful now.”

Thibaut sat himself down slowly and swung his legs over the edge of the stage. He caught the way Irfane snuck looks up the tiny skirt he wore, and instantly, he felt a surge of power again, the same power that came with the heels he first wore. He smiled at his boyfriend, who only licked his lips and tried to look away. The exchange was like electricity, and it fizzled in Thibaut’s system.

From the bar, Pedro watched as the two talked and smiled at each other. Irfane and Thibaut had been together since before they started working for him, and he envied what they shared. As they held hands and walked towards him, he saw himself and Mehdi, the memories clear as day and too vibrant for him to handle. Pedro blinked quickly and looked away.

“Pedro, how is it?” Thibaut asked, holding onto Irfane to keep himself steady. The heels the girls selected for him were a little too high—he needed a bit of time to get used to them.

“How’s what?”

“My costume. Is it too safe? Is it okay?”

In his mind, Pedro was saying “ _Yes, it’s too safe_ ”, and he was pushing Thibaut back towards the dressing room—he looked too sweet to be a stand-in for Xavier. But in reality, Irfane was staring daggers at him, daring him to say what was on his mind. The man was smaller than he was, but Pedro was sure Irfane could kick his ass if he so wanted to. “No, you look great, the look fits you,” he said, nodding his head, watching Irfane nod in approval from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, good. I was afraid you were going to say I looked too innocent for your client,” Thibaut smiled.

“You look great, baby,” Irfane said before kissing him on the cheek. “Where’s Sebastian? Still changing?”

“Yes. The girls are helping him, backstage.” Thibaut tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. What would the client look like? Would he be polite? Pedro’s club was pretty exclusive, and bouncers were around, so most of the clients were never unruly. Except for that one time when Xavier threw a Scotch into a customer’s face, saying the old man “stuck his hands somewhere they shouldn’t be”. Either way, Thibaut felt anxious for the night.

“You can still change your mind about this, you know,” Irfane said, putting an arm around his boyfriend’s waist protectively. “You can say you don’t want to do this, and Pedro will drop the issue and cancel.”

“I _want_ to do this,” Thibaut pressed, feeling edgy. “What’s the worse that could happen? I can do this, Irfane. Don’t worry.”

“I was just asking to see if you’re sure.”

“I already said I was, so stop worrying. I’m not a child.”

Thibaut’s reaction took Irfane by surprise. Thibaut never talked this way, or took such an aggressive tone. Despite it being a teensy bit sexy, he found it alarming—his boyfriend was never like this, so assertive and snappy. Had he been keeping this side from him? Or was it just nerves? “All right. Fine. Whatever you want,” Irfane said, letting go of Thibaut’s waist and going behind the bar. “Have fun tonight,” he said flatly, palms on the smooth countertop. “What are you having?”

This was not going the way Thibaut wanted it to. He wanted Irfane to be impressed at how brave he was being, at how hot he was tonight, at how in-charge he was being. But no. It was all backfiring. “Nothing. I’m… I’m not thirsty. Thank you,” he mumbled, after a silence.

“Go wait backstage, Thibaut,” Pedro said, feeling the tension between the two. What the fuck was happening tonight? “I’ll call you guys out again when we open.” When Thibaut left, Pedro whipped around to face Irfane. “What the fuck was that?”

“The fuck was what?”

“ _That._ That passive-aggressive tension you just unloaded on the poor guy. What the fuck? Thibaut looked so excited to show you how he looked!”

“It’s your fault anyway,” Irfane snapped. “If you hadn’t put him in this situation, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It was this, or a cancelled appointment!”

“Why can’t you just cancel this one?”

“ _Because the stability of this club’s all I’ve got left, all right?_ ” Pedro shouted. “I’m fucking up a lot of things right now. I can’t let Ed Banger be another part of that list.” Silence. “Sorry for shouting,” he said, voice leveled.

“It’s fine,” Irfane grumbled. “I’m sorry, too, I guess.”

The issue would not rest between them, over this bar. Both Pedro and Irfane knew it. But neither of them pressed on it—they just allowed the conversation to drift off, as if it all meant nothing and no stakes were being raised. Pedro walked off to the silence of his office. He sat in the dim light and put his face in his palms. God, how he wanted his palms to suffocate him, to keep returning and returning his heavy exhales into his system, his lungs running out of air to breathe. Would that be suicide? Death by breathing?

“Hey.”

Pedro looked up to see Sebastian at his door. “Hey, Seb. How are you feeling?”

Sebastian pursed his lips. It was just like Pedro to worry about others first. “I’m fine.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Sebastian sat across Pedro’s table and reached out to stroke the man’s forearm. “You? How are you feeling? I heard you shout earlier, so I got out of the dressing room.”

“What? That was nothing! Just nerves before the evening, it happens,” Pedro said, waving his hand. “It’s nothing.”

“Drop it, Pedro. I know when you’re not okay.”

“No, really, I’m fine—”

“Last time I checked, the man I worked for was honest.”

Pedro was silent.

“Pedro, please talk to me. It’s the least I can do for you,” Sebastian urged. “Please.”

Pedro couldn’t speak. He only smiled at Sebastian with tears in his eyes. “I can’t take anymore of this,” he whispered, trying to blink back tears. “I just… I can’t.”

“Anymore of what?” Sebastian asked, moving his chair closer.

“Louis. Me and him.” Pedro took a shaky breath, and sighed. “I can’t do it anymore.”

This was the first time Sebastian saw his boss at a breaking point. Right now, Pedro looked like a portrait of a man broken, trying to choke back tears for the benefit of others. “Is he… Is Louis hurting you? Does he hit you or anything?”

Pedro shook his head. “No, he’s… He’s very good to me. Too good for me.”

“You keep saying that—”

“Because it’s true. This morning, he told me he loved me, and I couldn’t even say thank you. I can’t do this to him anymore,” Pedro said before his voice thinned out into a heaved exhale. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Sebastian did not know what to say. He stood up, went around the table, and hugged Pedro. As Pedro cried into his stomach, Sebastian could only make shushing noises and stroke the man’s hair. How much love was too much love for someone to complain about it? To feel choked about it? “You don’t have to,” he muttered. “You don’t have to keep doing this to yourself. To him.”

“I can’t break up with Louis, I owe him at least that much,” Pedro said, allowing Sebastian to hold him. “I can’t break his heart because I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“It’s for the best.”

“I need to stay. I want to _try_.”

“Who are you doing this for?” Sebastian asked, pulling Pedro away so he could look into his eyes. “Relationships go two ways. If it’s good for one, but it’s fucking up the other, it’s not a relationship. It’s a punishment. A prison. Stop hurting yourself, Pedro. You’re above this, I know it.”

“But Louis—”

“If Louis really does love you, he will let you go. He will understand that what you need isn’t a lover. What you need is time.”

Pedro could not hold back any longer. He let his head fall back onto Sebastian’s soft belly and cried. The club had to open in an hour, and now certainly wasn’t the time for emotional breakdowns, but he let himself cry. For the first time in a long time, Pedro let himself cry in front of somebody.

 

♥♥♥

 

“I can’t do this,” Thibaut breathed, looking out at the crowd that was starting to pour into the club. For some reason, Ed Banger looked more packed tonight, the music louder and the lights zipping a bit too fast. Thibaut’s heart hammered in his chest. “Irfane was right. I should have said no when I had the chance, I should’ve stayed out of it—”

“Stop it,” Sebastian interrupted. He took Thibaut’s shoulders and shook him a little. “You can _do_ this. You’ve dolled up only to back out? That’s not your style, Thibaut. And right now, Pedro needs us. Big time. So tonight we’re going to walk out there and entertain his customers. This night is going to end with that satisfied client. Got it?” When Thibaut looked at him with scared eyes, he gave the man another shake. “Thibaut! Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, sir!” Thibaut said loudly.

“Good. It’s just for one night. You can do this,” Sebastian replied. He was going to encourage the fuck out of this poor man, for everyone’s sake. “Okay?”

“Okay. Yeah, I can do this,” Thibaut said, nodding slowly as if to agree with what he’d just told himself. “I can do this?”

“ _Stop questioning yourself, for fuck’s sake!_ ”

“I can do this!” Thibaut cried, correcting himself.

“Yes, you can.” Sebastian let go of the man’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Thibaut all but froze in his arms, and then raised his hands to awkwardly pat at his back.

“Sebastian, what are we doing?” Thibaut whispered, confused. Sebastian was never a touchy-feely person, even with the ones he was close to, as far as Thibaut knew.

“We are hugging. Or I am hugging you.”

“Why…?”

“I’m helping you adjust,” Sebastian said, still hugging. “I’m holding you intimately so you won’t get shocked when people touch you all over, later on.” He let go. “Sometimes, the bouncers don’t see what goes on in booths. Even if it’s just one night, I don’t want you to freak out.”

“Oh,” Thibaut said. “When you first… started out, did any of the other dancers do this for you, too?”

Sebastian smiled. “Nah. I couldn’t rely on the others. Xavier got here before I did. He hated me as soon as I started pulling in patrons.” He remembered his first time on a man’s lap—it wasn’t his best experience. He’d been scared out of his mind, but he needed the cash. “But Pedro offered me a hug, now and then.”

Thibaut hugged Sebastian once more. He now only realized how difficult starting out must’ve been for Sebastian. No wonder he built a wall around himself. “Thank you, Seb.”

Sebastian chuckled and briefly hugged him back, before letting go. “Well, I’m up first. Good luck with that client. Sweeten that deal.” And then he left for the stage.

Thibaut sat alone in the dressing room. The girls were with the filler dancers, helping them since he was going to be, well, ‘in the field’ tonight. He was a mess of nerves inside, but he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw a more attractive version of himself—brown hair combed out and silky, framing his face; the pale skin of his shoulders peeking out from under a cream-colored sweater, his blue eyes brighter than usual. He was mesmerized that he could even look this good.

“Thibaut.”

Thibaut snapped out of his reverie. He saw Irfane by the curtained doorway of the dressing room, one hand in his right pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes?”

“Bertrand says that the client—I mean, _your_ client is on his way here,” Irfane said, avoiding his boyfriend’s eyes.

“Oh. Right. Thank you.”

“I’d wait in a booth right now, if I were you,” Irfane continued.

Thibaut wordlessly stood up and took one last look in the mirror, worrying at his eyeliner.

“Don’t worry. You look good,” Irfane commented, stepping into the room. He approached Thibaut from behind and looked at him through their reflections. “You always do.”

Thibaut smiled at Irfane. “Thank you.”

Irfane wrapped his arms around Thibaut’s midsection. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said, leaning his forehead onto the man’s back. He inhaled the subtle hint of perfume that lingered on the sweater. “I’m sorry for what happened earlier.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Thibaut said, holding Irfane’s arms. “It’s okay.”

“I know you wanted to help Pedro, and the way I reacted wasn’t justified. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

Thibaut blushed. He heard the phrase every waking moment of his life for the past four years now, but every time Irfane said it, it felt like he was hearing it for the first time. “I love you too.”

“I guess I was just shocked.”

“At what?”

“You,” Irfane said, nuzzling in between Thibaut’s shoulder blades. “I’ve never seen you so… so…”

“Mean?” Thibaut suggested, laughing as he suggested the word.

“I was going to say ‘assertive’,” Irfane said. His arms let go of Thibaut’s waist and slid down to the sides of his thighs. “So very new. It was scary, but it was hot.”

Thibaut gasped at how cool the tips of Irfane’s fingers were against his skin. He arched his back some more, pushing his ass softly onto Irfane’s crotch. “You like it when I’m mean?” he whispered.

“In moderation, of course,” Irfane uttered, his warm breath ghosting Thibaut’s ear. His hands stroked up and down the man’s thighs, the goosebumps tickling his palms. “And in private.”

Thibaut exhaled in a rush of breath. He turned around and made to kiss Irfane when the other man’s finger pressed on his lips.

“Not now. Tomorrow,” Irfane smirked.

“Later,” Thibaut insisted.

Irfane laughed at Thibaut’s impatience. “We’ll see! For now, you get your ass out there. Wow them.”

“You’re unfair,” Thibaut said, pulling a face.

“Go! Get out of here. I’ll see you later,” Irfane chuckled. When Thibaut still didn’t move, he slapped the man’s ass hard, making him give out a surprised yelp. “Return the favor, later. For now, make me jealous.”

Thibaut snuck another glance over his shoulder before he left. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“I’ll be watching you from the bar.”

Thibaut walked through the curtains, leaving Irfane in the dressing room. As he walked out onto the club’s glitter-and-silver confetti-littered floor, he felt as if something new was waking up in him, pushing him to walk with his head held high, and his hips swaying as if he was born to walk like he broke hearts for a living.

 

♥♥♥

 

Vinco walked into Ed Banger, feeling a little bummed. He’d just missed Sebastian’s solo—he got to the VIP booth just as Sebastian was leaving the stage. All he caught was a devious look thrown over Seb’s shoulder before he disappeared backstage. He ordered a vodka tonic and wondered where his friends were.

“Hey there, Handsome!” a familiar voice chirped. Vinco looked up to see Honey, dressed in a baby-doll dress that looked like it lacked fabric in certain places.

“Hugo! Come, sit with me,” Vinco said, patting the empty space beside him. “I can’t find Pedro or Bertrand anywhere.”

Honey plopped down next to him. “Mister Vincent—”

“Just ‘Vinco’, please.”

“Okay, Vinco, around here I’m still Honey. So don’t use my real name. It kinda ruins the fun for the other customers,” Honey stated, tapping on the tip of Vinco’s nose. “And no, I haven’t seen them. But I do think Pedro’s in his office? Or outside? I’m not sure.”

“All right, do you know where Pedro’s office is?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take me there. I need to talk to him.” The two made their way through the sea of people, all the way to a dark hall, near where Pedro’s office was. When Vinco spotted a door on the edge of the hall, he walked towards it, but stopped short when Honey let go of his arm. “You’re not coming with me?”

Honey shook his head. “Only senior dancers and important people are allowed in the Boss’ office. Junior dancers are only allowed when they’re called.”

Vinco nodded and went to open the door. He gave it a few tentative knocks before calling out. “Pedro? Pedro, it’s me.”

Nothing. Silence.

“Pedro, I’m coming in, all right?” He opened the door and let himself into his friend’s dim office. Behind a big desk sat Pedro, who did not even look up to greet him—instead, he was on his phone, the light illuminating his face, which looked gaunt and tired. “Pedro?”

“Hm?”

“Are you all right? I tried calling you earlier, you weren’t picking up.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?”

“What?”

“It sucks,” Pedro said, leaning back in his chair, “when you keep calling a friend, wondering where he is, and he doesn’t pick up. Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

Vinco walked forward, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I just… I didn’t feel well last night. I went straight home.” He knew he shouldn’t lie, it was a shitty thing to do to Pedro, but he couldn’t jeopardize Sebastian’s job. “I’m sorry.”

“You could have texted me. I was fucking worried.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry.” Vinco sat in front of the desk. “Hey. I really am sorry. It was unfair that I made you worry. I apologize.”

Pedro could sense that Vinco was being sincere. “Fine. Forget about it, it’s done and over with.”

“Thanks.” The two sat in awkward silence. “How are things?”

“What do you mean?”

“How are you and Louis? Is he treating you well?” Vinco asked, hoping for a positive answer. Louis seemed like a pretty okay guy, and he really liked Pedro—maybe he had what it took to take care of his friend. “I know it seemed like Bertrand and I didn’t agree about the whole… boyfriend thing. But I want to let you know that we support you guys, and I’m happy you finally have someone to—”

“I’m going to break up with Louis.”

What Pedro just said made Vinco lean forward on the desk. “What the fuck?”

“I’m breaking up with him,” Pedro said, sighing in resignation.

“Why? I thought you guys had a good thing going on,” Vinco asked. “Is he just putting on an act when we’re around? If he is, and he’s hurting you in private, I’m going to fuck him up.”

“No, he isn’t hurting me. It’s the other way around.”

“How? You’re a good guy, I can’t imagine you hurting anyone.”

Louis’s sad smile flashed in Pedro’s mind. _I love you, anyway_. “I’m an unfair human being,” he muttered, looking down at his phone. “He’s too good for me. I don’t deserve him, so I’m letting him go.”

Vinco was floored. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“It’s been going on since we got together,” Pedro said, remembering how Louis had asked for his number at an art show organized by Bertrand. He oozed confidence with others, but when he asked Pedro for his number, he kept saying how embarrassed he was. It had flattered Pedro. Now, that image of sweet, sincere Louis was burned into the back of his mind, haunting him. _This is the man you are hurting, Pedro_ , his conscience said. _Take a good look at what you are tearing apart._ “A month and a half ago. I’m sorry I only told you guys this week.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Vinco assured. “When… When are you going to do it?”

“Tomorrow night, probably,” Pedro said. “I don’t know how to do it, but I know I have to. I’ve never broken up with anyone before.”

Pity pricked at Vinco’s heart. Pedro’s last boyfriend never did break up with him. There was no closure. Mehdi just died. “I’m sorry.”

Pedro shrugged. “I think you were right.”

“About what? I’m never right about anything. If I am, it’s usually by accident,” Vinco smiled, hoping that making fun of himself would at least make Pedro smile.

“I might not be ready to be in a relationship.”

“Dude. I _never_ said that,” Vinco defended. “I mean, I only thought about it, but I never wanted to say it…”

Pedro snorted. “Maybe. Either way, you were right.” He stood up and went around the desk. “Come on,” he said to Vinco as he put an arm around his shoulders. “I need a drink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I NEVER INTENDED FOR EVERYTHING TO BECOME SO SAD I APOLOGIZE
> 
> Comments, as usual, are appreciated UvU


	10. Exclusive, Constant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY VALENTINES DAAAAAAAYYYYY ♥♥♥
> 
> So sorry for the late upload, yo. I made this chapter pretty long to make up for it haha. I hope you enjoy it!!!

Pedro and Vinco sat in the VIP lounge, nursing their drinks. After their somehow extensive talk in Pedro’s office, Vinco wanted nothing more than to just relax with his best friend. There was nothing more to say, and besides, he also had no idea _what_ to say. Nothing he wanted to tell Pedro would help him, so it was probably best if he just offered his company and support. “Hey, who are you texting?” Vinco asked. “Louis?”

“No, it’s a client.” Pedro turned to Vinco. “Would it be okay if you… shared the VIP spot with someone else?”

 “What?”

“Just for the night. It’s important, you know, like an investment deal. Well, hopefully,” Pedro said, looking at his phone again.

Vinco jumped to a conclusion right away—sharing the VIP spot would also mean sharing Sebastian. “What do you mean ‘share’? How the fuck does that work?”

“Look at you, getting riled up,” Pedro teased. “Chill, I only meant share a spot on this couch. Jeez, you act as if you actually _paid_ for all of this.”

“That was a low-fucking-blow, Pedro, ouch,” Vinco snapped. Oh, shit. He was getting possessive. This was not good.

“What’s the deal anyway? I thought you didn’t like it here too much.”

“Nothing in particular, you know.”

“Is it Seb?”

Vinco went silent. “What are you talking about?” he said, laughing nervously.

“Because I’ve seen the way you look at him,” Pedro shrugged. “Not to mention the fact that he _is_ your dream guy.”

“Really funny, Pedro,” Vinco said, taking a swig of his drink. “I’m just inherently selfish, you know me. And I’ve moved on from Sebastian.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah,” Vinco said, lying through his teeth. “He’s hot, but I don’t know if I can keep liking a stripper. It’s too complicated for a dumb guy like me. Life goes on,” he continued, waving his half-empty glass. “So where’s this client of yours?” he asked, eager to change the topic. Any more prodding from Pedro and he might just let something slip.

“A few minutes away,” Pedro said, tucking his phone into his pocket. He craned his neck to look for Thibaut in the crowd—he’d just sent Irfane to call him from the dressing room. God. He still needed to apologize to the both of them for putting the happy couple in such a mess. He saw a familiar head of long brown hair bobbing along to music in the crowd. “Thibaut!” he called. “Thibaut! VIP! Come over here!”

Vinco watched as a tall, leggy figure emerged from between people. He looked like a sweet, sweet paradox—a thick, dark beard shouldn’t look that good with a skirt. It was… odd. In an intriguingly cute way. He watched as Pedro welcomed the man with a hand outstretched.

“Vinco, this is Thibaut,” Pedro said. “He’ll be keeping our special client company tonight.”

“Hi,” Thibaut mumbled as he took Pedro’s hand so he could pull him closer. _So this guy’s Sebastian’s favorite client_ , he thought, sizing Vinco up. He seemed nice, and considering the fact that there was an obvious change in how Sebastian acted backstage, he must also be Sebastian’s… person.

“Is ‘Thibaut’ your real name, or…?” Vinco asked. When Thibaut looked a bit shocked, he spoke again. “I mean, I know some of the other dancers have their stage names, so I was wondering if that’s yours or something.”

“You ask my dancers what their real names are?” Pedro asked, making a face.

“Just one!”

“It’s all right, Pedro,” Thibaut said. “Thibaut’s my real name, sir.”

“Aww, isn’t he adorable?” Pedro cooed, putting an arm around Thibaut’s skinny shoulders and hugging him. “This little bird’s very shy, so be nice to him. I’ll meet the client by the door.”

“He’s here?” Thibaut croaked, eyes wide.

“Yes, he is. From the moment he gets here, it’s all you, all right?” Pedro said, tilting the other man’s chin up with his finger. “Don’t be scared,” he added, kissing Thibaut’s cheek before leaving for the door. “I’m off.”

Thibaut fell on the couch with a plop, heart kicking into overdrive. This was really happening. Oh, God. He should’ve taken a few shots before coming to the VIP booth—hell, even just one or two would have helped. Anything to take away the chill that was slowly creeping up from his gut to his neck would be doing him a huge favor.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vinco asked, noticing how Thibaut was about a few seconds away from a mental breakdown.

“I’ve never done this before,” Thibaut breathed, looking straight ahead, eyes unfocused.

“You’re new here?”

“More or less,” Thibaut said. “I work backstage—what am I saying, I shouldn’t be telling you this. I’m sorry, would you like another drink? I can get you another drink.” In all honesty, Thibaut just wanted a reason to swing by the bar to see his boyfriend, hear him tell him things were going to be okay, and that he could do this.

“No, but you look like you could use one. A strong one,” Vinco commented. “If you work backstage, why are you, you know, out here?”

“The original dancer booked for this client got into an accident.”

“Oh. Can I ask who?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Vinco heard Pedro’s laugh nearby. “Hey, they’re coming.”

“ _Oh, my God_ ,” Thibaut squeaked.

“Look, you can do this,” Vinco said, feeling a tinge of pity for the guy. This clearly was not Thibaut’s area, but he was sticking his neck out for his boss. Anyone who wanted to help his friends counted as a plus in Vinco’s book. “You’re looking good. You can do this, man.”

This VIP really was nice. “Thank you, sir,” Thibaut mumbled. “Sebastian’s a lucky guy.”

Vinco’s blood ran suddenly cold at the statement. Did Thibaut know that he and Seb were…? “Excuse me, what?”

“He’s lucky to be your favorite,” Thibaut said, not noticing how apprehensive he made Vinco. “The other VIPs before weren’t as nice.”

“Oh,” Vinco exhaled, relaxing. Jesus, he really had to calm the fuck down about Seb. He almost freaked out twice tonight and he hasn’t even seen Seb yet. “Thanks.”

Thibaut smiled. He only hoped his client would be as nice.

His client who was accompanied by Pedro, who was heading their way right now.

Oh, dear God. Oh, shit. This was really happening. Panicking, Thibaut looked to the bar and spotted Irfane.

“Don’t panic,” Irfane said, mouthing the words and giving him two thumbs up. “I love you,” he continued, forming a heart with his hands.

Thibaut nodded, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He remembered what the girls told him earlier, how his personality would suit the ‘sweet, waifish character’ more. When he opened them again, Thibaut was someone else, someone sweeter, quieter, and way more virginal.

Pedro approached the table with a man who had a sturdy built, not as tall as Pedro was, but height was no issue when you looked like you could buy and sell people over lunch. The client had dark, piercing eyes that darted over to where the VIP was sitting. Thibaut could sense Vinco’s uneasiness at being sized up by the newcomer, seeing how Vinco sat up a bit straighter.

“Vinco, this is Michel Amato, an entrepreneur and a good friend of mine,” Pedro said, smiling and clapping Michel’s shoulder. “Michel, this is Vincent Belorgey, this week’s VIP, and also my other very good friend.”

Michel, who was holding his jacket nonchalantly over his shoulder, took his free hand out of his pocket to shake Vinco’s hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, giving Vinco an upward quirk of the corner of his lips. Or, what those closest to him would understand, a “smile”.

Vinco noticed the solid handshake Michel gave him—two firm, compact pumps. This man was in a club, but he fucking meant _business_. “Right back at you. And call me Vinco, please.”

“And this little slice of heaven…” Pedro said, motioning for Thibaut to stand up and take his outstretched hand, “… will keep you company tonight.” Pedro led Thibaut closer to Michel, who was surveying him.

Thibaut’s been in situations where Irfane told him he was good enough to eat. But being under Michel’s unwavering gaze made him feel like a rabbit at the mercy of a hawk. In short, Thibaut felt like he was being offered to a slaughterhouse.

“He’s shy, so be nice,” Pedro winked.

“I remembered Xavier to be shorter. And not as hairy,” Michel noted, raising an eyebrow.

“Xavier had to go home because of an accident. This one’s just as sweet, I promise you,” Pedro said, not letting his client see how nervous he was getting.

“I doubt I’ll enjoy an escort taller and manlier than me.”

“Give him a chance! I promise, you won’t regret it,” Pedro urged, a mix of humor and panic in his voice.

Something in Thibaut’s head clicked. Michel wanted Xavier because Xavier was more effeminate. Dainty. More girl-like. He was probably the reason Xavier shaved more frequently. _So Michel is that kind of client_ , Thibaut thought. As Pedro tried to convince the client to stay, Thibaut feigned stumbling over his own heels. With a breathy cry, he was on all fours in front of Michel. He looked up at the shorter man through his eyelashes, jaw tilted slightly downward to make him look more defenseless, overall. He pushed his ass out, arching his back so much that it kind of hurt his lower back. “I-I’m sorry, I just… It was just getting really hot in here… I lost focus…” Thibaut apologized.

Michel helped Thibaut up, watching how the skinny man tottered on his heels. “Are you all right?” he asked, a hand supporting his back.

“Yes. Thank you,” Thibaut mumbled, shyly looking away. “But I dirtied my knees, though…” he continued, bending over to pat away the dirt on his knees.

Pedro watched how Thibaut acted and knew (though it did take him time to understand) what he was doing. He smirked at how Thibaut went about reeling the client in. The man deserves a raise. And a week-long vacation.

“I’m so sorry, I’m a bit clumsy,” Thibaut said, straightening up. “Thanks for helping me up again.”

“It’s fine. What’s your name?”

“Thibaut.”

“You don’t have a stage name?”

Thibaut tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and looked down at his feet. “No, I don’t. It’s my first time, you see.”

“I’m your first… client?” Michel asked, taking a seat on the couch.

“Mm-hmm,” Thibaut nodded, playing with the hem of his skirt.

This knowledge made Michel slowly smile. “Come here,” he said, motioning for Thibaut to sit. When the man sat beside him, he patted his lap. “Legs.” The moment Thibaut’s long, thigh-high covered legs settled in his lap, he slowly ran his hands up and down his calves. He was not Xavier, but he would do. For now. He was adorable, and there was something extremely sexy about how innocent he was, or how innocent he played at. “I’ll take care of you.”

Pedro looked on as the scene unfolded before him. Fuck the week-long vacation—Thibaut deserved a _month_. While Michel was enamored by Thibaut, Pedro looked to the bar and gave Irfane a thumbs-up, smiling excitedly as he did so.

Irfane responded with an equally-happy grin and two middle fingers.

Pedro rolled his eyes at the bartender and went back to the task at hand—he needed Michel to invest in Ed Banger. “So, now that you’ve got yourself settled in, let’s talk business.”

 

♥♥♥

 

The tension in Xavier and Gaspard’s apartment was so real that anyone could slice through it with a butter knife if they so wanted to. It had been hours since they got home from the club, and none of them said a word to each other. Xavier was seated on the far end of the couch, leaning back on the couch’s arm with his legs bare and stretched out, toes barely grazing the side of Gaspard’s thighs. The other man was on the other side of the couch, eyes trained on some cooking show on TV, with a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

“Are you still mad at me?” Xavier said, stretching further to poke at his boyfriend’s thigh. Silence. He poked some more until his ankle started hurting again. “Hey. Hey, Gaspard. Gaspard. Hey. _Hey_.”

“Your foot will hurt more if you keep straining it like that,” Gaspard replied. The sounds of popcorn crackling under his molars served as the punctuation to his sentence. He really didn’t want to give Xavier the silent treatment, but this time around, Gspard simply had no idea what else to do.

“Fuck my foot. Are you still mad at me?”

Gaspard turned to him and stared blankly. “Are you seriously asking me that question? Really, Xavier?”

“I had to try. So you are?”

“Xavier. You drink hard liquor—”

“Wasn’t that much…” Xavier interjected.

“Regardless, Xavier—you _drank_. After you promised me you wouldn’t, at least not while you dance. How many times have we talked about this? The last time you drank before you warmed up, you hit your head, and Pedro and I had to take you to the hospital,” Gaspard said, feeling the slow rise in his temper. Months ago, Xavier had shown up drunk from God knows where, and despite Gaspard’s badgering, Xavier still took to the pole and dared to do a few tricks. He ended up losing his grip after attempting to do an upside-down spread eagle, falling on the top of his head.

“So what? Okay, so I _may_ have a drinking problem. Big deal. I can go to some bullshit Alcoholics Anonymous circle, if it makes you happy. There, are you happy?”

“Why are you acting so reckless?” Gaspard sighed in frustration. He clicked the TV off and set the remote beside him.

“ _God, it was just twice, Gaspard!_ ” Xavier cried, putting his hands up.

“Are you trying to prove something? Is this because of Sebastian? Still?”

Xavier gaped at the man. “I can’t believe you! I told you about that because I wanted you to _know_ what’s been going on in my head, not for you to use it as some sick leverage over me whenever we fight!”

“I’m not using it, I’m just asking if it is the reason for this behavior,” Gaspard said.

“Don’t fucking lie to my face, Gaspard, I deserve better.” Xavier sneered at Gaspard. “You keep talking about my habits as if yours aren’t in the same ballpark. But you’re no saint either!” Xavier defended, pushing himself up.

“I never said I was a saint.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been acting like it!”

“I was hoping you’d follow suit, actually, that’s why,” Gaspard snapped, turning to Xavier too fast and sending the bowl of popcorn to the ground.

“You’re treating me like a child again!”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you fucking are! Lately, you’ve been acting like you’re my keeper, Gaspard, and I’m not enjoying it. I didn’t fucking sign up for an older brother kind of thing, or something!”

“I’m not trying to be your keeper, Xavier, I’m trying to help you! I just want—”

“What about what _I_ want, Gaspard, huh?” Xavier shouted. “Do you even care about what I want? Do you have any idea what I want? What if I wanted you to ask me what’s going on and not yell at me? What if I wanted you to offer support instead of a goddamn lecture? Huh? Well?” When Gaspard fell silent, Xavier scoffed. “That’s what I thought. You’re always going off about what _you_ want for me. I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Neither did I,” Gaspard said silently. He shifted his gaze to his lap and sighed, resigned.

And just like that, all Xavier knew and loved came crashing down. Tears threatened to fall from Xavier’s eyes after he realized what his boyfriend, his _lover_ , just said. It started to sting, and it made him want to blink, but blinking would mean letting the tears fall, and Xavier’s pride was too high for that. Even though it tore him apart inside, he held his head high and spoke. “I guess we’re on the same page, then.”

“Fine.”

“… Good.”

Gaspard stood up and left. “Leave the mess. I’ll deal with it later. I always do.”

Xavier heard the bedroom door shut behind him. For the first time in a while, he was speechless. Tears fell down his cheeks. He didn’t feel the need to wipe them away. Stunned, he lay back down, feeling his tears drip sidewards, rolling off his cheekbones and down to the shell of his ear. He wept quietly, sobs strangled into whimpers behind his hands. His stomach felt hollow. His chest felt hollow. Everything felt blank and empty. He had forgotten that breaking up felt this bad.

 

♥♥♥

 

The conversation was going pretty well, Pedro thought. ‘Going well’ being the fact that Michel hadn’t rolled his eyes at anything he’d said so far, or pushed Thibaut off of his lap. In fact, Michel looked like he was warming up to Thibaut _really_ fast. Alarmingly fast. The man paid more attention to Thibaut than to the transaction, to be honest. Pedro kind of wished Vinco was around to at least act as a buffer to tone down the touchy-feely vibe around, but _no_ , his best friend had to leave to get a private lapdance. Again.

While Michel whispered things into Thibaut’s ear, Pedro craned his neck to look for Irfane, hoping for his sake that he wasn’t watching.

Oh shit. Irfane was most certainly watching. A cold, closed-mouth smile was on his lips, and he shook his head slowly. Seriously, Irfane scared the fuck out of Pedro because he was rarely mad—now that he was because his _boyfriend_ was involved in club transactions, Pedro feared for his safety. He turned his attention back to Michel and clapped his hands. “I see you’re enjoying Thibaut’s company,” he warily said, smiling.

“Very much,” Michel said, rubbing Thibaut’s lower back. “Thibaut holds very good conversation. He and I have a lot of common grounds, especially in art.” He smiled up at the man in his lap, who only smiled shyly at him. “I might like him more than Xavier.”

This was good, this was very good. Michel’s interest in Thibaut could mean frequent visits to Ed Banger, making Michel a very important patron. “I’m glad to hear that! Does he interest you in… coming back? In the future?”

Michel smirked at Pedro and leaned back, pulling Thibaut back against him so he was leaning on his chest. He liked this man’s feel against him, there was something so vulnerable in him that just… clicked for him. “I’m not sure. A few nights after this, maybe. But in the future? I need a little more convincing, Pedro Winter.”

Thibaut wanted to sit up properly. He felt a little uncomfortable being held against another man’s chest in this position—only Irfane did that, and it was always to make Thibaut relax. It was their favorite “chill” position at home. How ironic was it that the one thing that could calm him down was what was slowly unnerving him. But Thibaut did not dare to move. Moving, even just a bit, would probably send Michel the wrong signal and make him think that Thibaut wanted no part in this. He couldn’t risk the future of Ed Banger for a moment of discomfort. He nuzzled the crook of Michel’s neck, hoping he would just make the goddamned investment deal already.

“Your club’s business is good, and there are no underground operations—that’s very rare in clubs nowadays,” Michel commented, playing with the edges of Thibaut’s hair, twirling them between his fingers. “Unless there’s something you aren’t telling me.”

Pedro huffed. “The Ed Banger Gentlemen’s Club is a clean, underground business-free zone. I run a tight, steady ship, Michel.” He reached for his glass, remembering what he promised to himself and to Mehdi. “It’s a personal policy I will always keep,” he said before taking a swig.

“Good to know. I don’t want my name in papers that end up saying ‘Michel Amato Deals in Shady Affairs at a Nightclub’. You know how much my reputation means.”

Of course it should matter, Michel was the head of a business that managed multiple vineyards all over France. There were rumors of him having a few fingers in the underground art trading scene, and no one knew for sure if anything anyone said wasn’t _completely_ true.

“I understand completely. You don’t have to worry—getting involved with Ed Banger would be a great, _safe_ investment,” Pedro said, leaning with his elbows on his knees. “If you invest, I’m willing to give you… ten percent of every month’s earnings. That, plus club perks that are VIP-exclusive.”

Michel chuckled, stroking Thibaut’s hair. “ _Just_ ten percent?”

“Believe it or not, you’re not this club’s only future partner,” Pedro said with a proud smile. Maybe if he made Ed Banger look like a total commodity that had a lot of investors (which it was, but not enough), Michel would give in and invest.

“Twenty percent.”

“I’ll go no higher than twelve percent.”

“Fifteen, then.”

Pedro bit his lip. “Let’s settle for thirteen.” _Fuck, this man is stubborn_.

“I’ll allow thirteen percent every month,” Michel agreed before leaning forward, moving Thibaut’s legs off his lap, “under one condition.”

“Let’s hear it.”

Michel put his hand on Thibaut’s knee. “Thibaut’s exclusivity until I decide I’m through with him.”

Thibaut felt his heart drop to his stomach at his client’s words. He shot Pedro a worried look, not daring to look at the bar—Irfane could read him like an open book, and what was currently going on would not be good.

Pedro ground his molars together. “Michel, Ed Banger is not a brothel, you know. My performers are under a contract that allows them to make their own decisions about which clients they can be exclusive to. I simply write things down and manage their earnings.”

“I never said it was a brothel. But you know me, Pedro,” Michel replied as he fingered the edge of Thibaut’s thigh highs, unaware how he gave the man goosebumps. “I’m very possessive with the things I like.”

This was all going very wrong very fast. Pedro could see how worried Thibaut was getting about the whole ordeal. He smiled and shook his head. “Thibaut is not an object, my friend. And he can’t give you exclusivity. I’m sorry.”

“Only Thibaut can say that. Can’t you, darling?” Michel asked, turning to face Thibaut, who only responded with a forced smile and a little nod.

“Well, Thibaut still _is_ new, maybe another performer would be better for—”

“I’m fine with it,” Thibaut mumbled.

“…What?” Pedro said, stunned.

Thibaut faced Michel. “I’m fine with exclusivity,” he said. “As long as you shake Pedro’s hand and say it’s a done deal.”

It took all of Pedro to not gape at how brazen Thibaut was being. This man that he’d known to be very passive and very timid was manipulating one of the most intimidating businessmen Pedro had ever known. With every doe-eyed blink and bashful smile, Thibaut made Michel want him more and more. It was amazing.

Michel smiled, letting his eyes flicker to Thibaut’s lips. He faced Pedro again and stuck his hand out. “I hope our future business goes well, my friend.”

 “Excellent, I hope it does!” Pedro beamed, shaking the offered hand. _Well, shit_ , he thought. _Irfane’s going to kill me_.

 

♥♥♥

 

“I shouldn’t be here, should I?” Vinco said, looking around. Instead of the usual trip to the stuffy private booths, Sebastian had taken him by hand and led him to a dressing room. He hang back as Sebastian only laughed and went to a mirror. “Sebastian, your taking a really big risk here.”

“Pedro’s busy right now, he won’t even notice,” Sebastian said, waving a hand dismissively. “Have a seat,” he added, nodding to an unused chair by the door. When Vinco did as he was told, Sebastian turned to the mirror again. “Xavier and Gaspard are off for probably a week, and the girls are handling the filler dancers in the other dressing room. We’ll be fine here.”

Vinco nodded. He surveyed the place silently, and picked up a shoe. It was inky black, and the heel was really thin—how did Sebastian and the other performers move with these things? “You know, I never get over how amazing you guys are with these,” he said, waving the shoe around.

“Huh?” Sebastian asked.

“I mean the heels and everything. How do you guys do it?”

“Practice makes perfect,” Sebastian chuckled. “Do you want to try it?”

“Walking in these? No, thank you,” Vinco laughed, putting the shoe down. “Aren’t you going to change?”

“Why, so you can get a free peep show?” Sebastian joked.

“Hey, I take what I can get,” Vinco said with a laugh.

“Nah, I don’t need to change.” When Vinco gave an understanding ‘oh’, Sebastian spoke again. “But I _do_ feel the need to change these stockings,” he added, feigning an innocent smile, as if he had no idea how he affected Vinco. “These ones have a run on the seams already.”

Vinco leaned back and spread his legs. “You have to change it then,” he agreed. “What would Pedro and the others say.”

“Indeed.” Sebastian faced away from Vinco and bent over to unclasp his shoes. “They might think I’m sloppy,” he mused, spreading his legs to push his ass up and out. “Do you think I’m sloppy, Vincent?”

Vinco sucked in a breath. Seeing Sebastian tease him like this shot heat into his pants. “No, but I think those stockings should go.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked, stroking the backs of his thighs.

“Definitely.”

Sebastian straightened up and kicked his shoes off. He propped his foot up on a nearby chair so he could unclasp the stocking from its strap. As he slid the stocking slowly down, he sighed and threw his head back. “I love feeling it just… slide all the way off.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. The garter’s really… tight,” Sebastian said, snapping the garter against his leg, “but after a few minutes, it gets comfortable.”

Vinco cleared his throat. Goddamn Seb. “It left marks on your skin, though,” he said, noticing the indents left by the garters.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said, slipping the stocking off. “I like the burn.” He repeated the process on his other leg, pulling the remaining stocking off and letting it fall to the ground. The girls would pick it up later. “Did you like what you saw, Vincent?”

‘Like’ was an understatement—Vinco’s pants were tight as _fuck_ right now. “Meh, it was all right,” he joked, vaguely gesturing to his crotch. When Sebastian laughed and slipped on another pair from a nearby rack, he watched and bit his lip. “Do that a little slower, Seb.”

Seb smirked at him and pulled the stockings up slowly, taking extra care to get the seams at the back straight. When he was done, he put on his shoes and faced the mirror. He took a baby wipe and swept it over his face. Sweat had ruined his makeup, so he had to re-do it all.

Vinco fell silent, captured by the way Sebastian did his makeup. He did it with such focus, hands moving like clockwork, movements basically automatic.

“You’re so quiet,” Sebastian commented, swiping on mascara. “Did you cream yourself already?” he teased.

“No, not yet, at least,” Vinco said. “I could watch you do that all night.” He honestly could, if Sebastian allowed him to. He would gladly spend hours just watching him work.

“Wouldn’t you rather watch me be doing something else?”

“Of course, but…” Words failed Vinco. He wanted to have sex with Sebastian as much as any man who had eyes, that was a given. But he also felt oddly satisfied with just watching Seb in his element. Never mind the fact that he’d given him a boner—this was a simple pleasure Seb allowed him.

“Come here,” Sebastian said. When Vinco stood in front of him, close enough to smell the liquor in his breath, Sebastian took his hand. “Ever watched your girlfriends do this before?”

“Yeah,” Vinco murmured. “There was just something so sensual about it. I always watched my ex do her face. Is that weird?”

“No, it’s not.” Sebastian could feel Vinco’s eyes mapping his face. He took a tube of red lip tint and smeared some on the tip of Vinco’s index finger. “Help me, then,” he whispered. “You know how this goes, right?”

The tint nearly dripped off of Vinco’s finger when he brought it up to Sebastian’s lips. Ever so gently, he swiped it on, slowly, to evenly spread the color. He felt Sebastian’s warm breath on his hand as the man parted his lips some more to help him. He swept his finger back and forth on the lower lip, mesmerized by his own actions and how soft and red Sebastian’s mouth was.

Sebastian watched as Vinco was totally absorbed in adding tint to his lips. He had to catch his breath a bit when Vinco started to open his own mouth, unconsciously mirroring him.

Vinco got started on Sebastian’s upper lip, biting his own in concentration. Sebastian had this perfect, pronounced Cupid’s bow, and it was getting tricky, keeping the color within the lines. Also, because he could feel that Sebastian was staring at him intently. “Stop looking at me like that,” Vinco chuckled, avoiding the man’s sky-blue eyes.

“Why?” Sebastian asked, slightly moving his mouth to force the word out.

“Because we might end up doing something that’ll mess your face up if you won’t stop.”

Sebastian smiled. “Makeup isn’t an issue, Zombie Boy.”

Vinco stepped closer. “Suit yourself,” he said before kissing Sebastian. A rush went through him, a warm wave that felt electric and somehow _right_. He held Sebastian’s face with one hand and slid his hand down the man’s back with the other. When he cupped Seb’s ass, Sebastian let out a groan that sent another shot of heat to his already hot-and-bothered cock. “Jesus, Seb,” he ground out between kisses.

Seb threw his arms around Vinco’s neck, holding him closer. Both of them were hard now, their crotches rubbing against each other. His hands ran through Vinco’s silver hair, he’d always wanted to do this, ever since the first day the met. As Vinco pawed at him, he deepened the kiss, nipping at the other man’s lower lip. He could taste the lip tint smearing on their mouths, making the kiss a little messier, a little wetter.

All of a sudden, Vinco started giggling. Pretty soon the giggling escalated to a laugh. Even though it confused him, Seb smiled. “I’m sorry… I’m just…” Vinco said, trying his best to speak.

“What’s so funny?”

“I didn’t expect it… the taste…”

Sebastian understood. He giggled as he reached for a tissue to wipe both of their mouths down. “You didn’t expect for it to be that bitter, didn’t you?”

“No, and I also don’t understand why I’m laughing,” Vinco said, clearing his throat again. “Wooh, man, I’m dumb.”

Smiling, Sebastian wiped the smeared red off Vinco’s mouth. If he was another guy, he would have punched the shit out of him. But this was Vinco, _his_ Vincent, the man who claimed to see him in his dreams, the man who had the soft, silver hair and the pair of warm, brown eyes. If he wanted to, he could laugh all the time. Sebastian didn’t mind—he enjoyed the sound of his laugh. “There. Do you still taste it?”

Vinco leaned down for a kiss once more, this time taking it slow. “Nah, it tastes sweeter now,” he said, smiling.

“Good.” God, this man could be the death of him.

 

♥♥♥

 

Pedro left the club an hour before closing. The evening went pretty well, despite the fact that Irfane kept sending him death stares throughout the entire time he and Michel were talking. Thankfully, Michel left before he did—if it was the opposite, he would probably be left to deal with the aftereffects of fucking around with someone’s boyfriend. He texted Bertrand and Vinco (who disappeared again, surprise, surprise) that he was leaving to take care of his own ‘boyfriend situation’, and hoped everything would be all right at Ed Banger while he was gone.

He hailed a cab since he was buzzed quite a bit already. Sitting in the back seat, he nervously made Louis a text, thumb hovering over SEND. After a while of hesitance, he pressed it. _Are you at home?_

Louis replied almost instantly. _Yes. Why? :)_

_I’m on my way._

_Be safe! xx_

Good God, he couldn’t do this to Louis. He looked out of the window and watched as the city became a blur of somber, darkened colors as the car rushed past. _We need to talk._ After he sent the text, Pedro waited. Thirty seconds passed.

A minute. A minute and a half.

Two minutes.

His phone beeped with Louis’ reply. _Okay. I’ll leave the door open._

Pedro felt like crying. He wasn’t even thinking of the words he was going to say, and he already felt like weeping. His phone beeped again.

 _I know you’re tired_.

When Pedro got to his building, he felt as if he wanted to throw up. He opted for the stairs instead of the elevator so he’d have time to think, to practice breaking Louis’ heart. He juggled his options: _I don’t love you. I haven’t moved on yet. You were too good to me. I am so sorry. Please fall in love with somebody else._ It all sounded so horrible, so painful—but it was the truth. It was the cliché of all clichés. The truth really did hurt.

He opened the door of his apartment and found Louis seated on the couch. When Pedro closed the door behind him, Louis turned and offered him a smile.

“Welcome home, babe.”

“Hey.” Pedro took his jacket off and hung it on the back of a chair. “How was your day?”

“Boring. My boss stuck me with tons of paperwork. Apparently, he went to some kind of ‘special meeting’ tonight? I don’t know. I bet he just went to a club,” Louis said, chuckling. “Anyway, it was normal. How are you, babe?”

Pedro could practically smell the lie in Louis cheery façade. The man avoided looking into his eyes. He took a seat beside Louis. “I’m fine. Tired, actually.”

“Do you want me to get you a beer? I can run a bath if you want—”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Oh.”

Here it was. The big moment. “Louis, I… You know I really, _truly_ appreciate you, right? You’ve always been there for me, and you’ve helped me through a really difficult time. I don’t know anyone else who’s as kind, and as generous as you.” He took Louis’ hand. “You are the best boyfriend anybody could ask for. And I will never stop thanking you.”

“It’s not difficult to love you, Pedro,” Louis said, smiling. He knew this moment was coming, he felt it in the way Pedro kissed and held him. He heard it in the emptiness in Pedro’s voice and laughter. But he couldn’t break down. This was difficult on Pedro, too. He had to power through for Pedro. “You deserve so much more.”

“No, I don’t. I mean, at least not yet.” Pedro squeezed Louis’s hand. “Look, what I’m trying _so hard_ to say is that… this past month with you has been filled with so much love that I… I’m probably not yet ready to take yet.” Pedro spared a look at Louis. What he saw really pushed the anxiety in his stomach to become the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry, Louis,” he whispered.

Louis felt shattered. All his composure from earlier flew out the window. “Is it my fault?” he asked quietly.

“Oh, God, no, please don’t think that!” Pedro sputtered, panicking. “That is the last thing I want you to think. It’s not your fault, Louis. This is all on me. If you think I’m an asshole, or that I’m selfish and a dick, I won’t blame you. Please don’t ever think it’s your fault. I’m just…” Pedro sighed. “I’m just a mess right now.”

“Then I’ll wait for you,” Louis pressed. “I’ll wait until you’re ready to love again. I’ll help you find yourself again, just please…” he trailed. “I love you.”

Pedro gingerly held Louis’s face in his hands. Tears started to fall down his cheeks, but he forced a smile. “It’s not you. Believe me, it truly isn’t. You’re perfect.”

Louis looked at Pedro with glistening eyes. “Then why are you leaving?”

Pedro bit his lip. “Because I don’t deserve you.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re wrong, you deserve so much more,” Louis countered. “I want to give you so much more, and I will, just…just please, let me—”

“Louis, you don’t have to,” Pedro interrupted, pulling the other man into a hug. “You’ve given me everything already. You’ve given me too much.” Pedro put a hand on Louis’s nape, thumb stroking the hairs at the base of his neck. “You’ve given me your heart, and I don’t know if I’m ready to give you mine. I should, but I can’t.” Pedro felt arms circle his back. Louis’s back began to shake slightly. “I’m so sorry, Louis. I’m sorry to the ends of the world.”

“I love you,” Louis said, words and tears muffled into Pedro’s shoulder. He did not know what to say anymore. Nothing he could say would make Pedro stay, but he said it anyway. “I love you, I love you.” He could feel Pedro’s hand grip the back of his shirt.

“I know. I’m so, so sorry,” Pedro said. Both of them were crying now, unabashed, and clinging onto each other in their own personal pains. “Louis, I am so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Louis said. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I’m hurting you. And you only wanted to help me. And now, I’m breaking your heart,” Pedro cried. “I’m so sorry, Louis.”

Louis broke away from the embrace. “I won’t stop loving you, you know that, right?”

“Don’t wait for me, Louis,” Pedro said, shaking his head. “You deserve someone better than me.” He leaned forward and kissed Louis, a chaste little pressing of lips, a thank-you and a goodbye sent from his heart to the other man’s. “Thank you so much. Thank you for loving me.”

Louis took Pedro’s hands. “I’ll still think of you.”

“Promise me one thing, before we end this.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t treat someone else the way I treated you. Promise me.”

Louis fell silent. He had given this man his heart, and thankfully, instead of throwing it away, Pedro was returning it, piece by broken piece, urging him to move on and fix it and love again. How would he move on from him? “I’ll promise it, if it makes you happy.”

Pedro wiped his eyes. “Thank you.” He leaned in again for another kiss.

The two spent their early morning mapping out each other’s bodies for the last time, both taking their time kissing, stroking, caressing. For the first time in their relationship, Pedro felt that they were making love. It felt strangely liberating. The sun rose on them with the promise of a new day, unfailing and ever constant, their bodies as spent as their hearts.

Louis held Pedro for the last time in his life, eyes tired from crying. “I’ll miss us.”

Pedro smiled at him. “Me, too.”

“I promise I’ll always think of you.”

“Thank you so much, Louis.”

“What do we do after this?”

Pedro exhaled and closed his eyes. “Take our time moving on, I guess. But for now, let’s just sleep.”

“Okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yep. Love sucks.
> 
> Michel Amato = The Hacker (what a handsome man...)
> 
> Comments are highly appreciated! ♥♥♥


	11. Another Interlude (to be deleted when the real 11th chapter's done, or when I've sorted myself out. sorry.)

So I’m taking a break from writing FIAS. I’m so so sorry.

I’ve been under an immense amount of stress lately, mostly from Uni. Thesis proposals are coming, and I still have no idea what to do with my life (not that anyone really cares tho). I’ve been feeling very drained, both emotionally and physically. As much as I love writing this (I do, truly do), I can’t promise a new chapter anytime soon. I’m such a disappointment, right?

Lately I’ve been feeling suuuuper shitty. I’ve been dealing with depression for the longest time now, and my current state isn’t helping anything. I am so sorry. Thank you for sticking with this story, tho. I love you all so much for it. I’m not cutting it off at this point—just please remember that I’ll be taking time off to take care of myself first. God knows how much I need to.

Thank you all again. I love you guys.

 

Feel free to yell at me via the comments below. I’m so sorry.

 

xxx,

Nina

**Author's Note:**

> Yes? No? Leave a comment! :D


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